


something in between

by madkingray



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AFAB Terms, Adam (Voltron) Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Endgame Sheith, Friends With Benefits, Galra Keith (Voltron), Happy Ending, He gets some Galra features!, M/M, Minor Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pining, Post-Season/Series 07, Shiro is a dumbass, Trans Keith (Voltron), Unplanned Pregnancy, sorta!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-07-10 13:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 47,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15950573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madkingray/pseuds/madkingray
Summary: Shiro and Keith start fucking to relieve their stress. They don't talk about it even when they're on Earth and it's never brought up again when Shiro gets back with Adam.Not even when Keith finds out he's pregnant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, okay. Vinny talked to me about this AU and I kinda couldn't get it outta my head so I ended up... writing something for it. So, please don't... hate me for it LOL. I love the potential drama for this AU. I also love sheith babies, so :/ this really lured me in even more. Also, the fact that sheith get to fuck. And dumbass Shiro is great.
> 
> (On that note, please... I'm very shy with my smut so this is as explicit as I get. Ahahaha. I use AFAB language, by the way. Additional warning: Unprotected Sex. Dumbasses. Penis in Vagina Sex. FTM Pregnancy, Oral Sex.)
> 
> Thank you to my lovely friends for reading over this. AND thank you to Vinny for this wonderful AU. God. I love you, I hope you love this.

It starts like this.

Shiro is frustrated with his inability to do _more_ for the team, forced to sit back and let Keith take the reins while he recovers. Keith is frustrated that flying home is taking longer than they wanted. Shiro tries to reassure Keith and Keith tries to comfort Shiro, but it just ends with irritation on both ends.

Living in the same Lion means that there's no chance to escape and cool down for a while, which adds to the frustration that has become directed at each other. It creates a heavy tension between them, palpable to the rest of the time, and the bubble is going to burst any day now.

One day, it finally does.

Keith and Shiro are talking—arguing—in the Black Lion while the rest of the team is out foraging for supplies on a planet they decided to stop at for a quick break.

There's an edge to Keith's voice when he speaks, cheeks flushed red and violet eyes sparking with irritation. Shiro snaps something back and digs his nails into his palms, fighting the urge to scream.

Shiro doesn’t know how it happens.

Maybe it’s the way Keith’s cheekbones seem sharp beneath the purple lighting of Black’s interior or the way his lips move when they form Shiro’s name. All he knows is that something snaps as they gravitate towards each other, and suddenly they’re locked in a biting kiss as they blindly navigate their way to the pile of blankets on the floor.

Nothing more is said when Keith pushes him down onto his back and starts kissing his throat, sharp teeth ghosting over his skin while Shiro tugs on his hair. Not even when Shiro is hastily opening him up with his fingers while Keith loosely pumps his cock or when Keith is sinking down on him with a low moan and all Shiro can feel is tight, wet heat.

The only noises that leave them are grunts and moans when Keith starts a fast pace, practically bouncing on his lap while Shiro grips his hip hard enough to bruise and matches him with hard upward thrusts.

So, it starts with frustration and ends with them fucking.

Afterwards, when they’re both panting beside each other, Shiro swallows and says, “So that happened.”

Keith rolls onto his stomach, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and face still flushed. “It did,” he says plainly. “And I feel so much better now. Don’t you?”

“Now that you’ve said it, I do,” Shiro admits. His skin no longer feels tightly stretched across his body, and he’s feeling much more relaxed than before. “I just can’t believe that’s all it took for us to be less… cranky.”

“Cranky?” Keith snorts. “That’s a cute way to describe how annoyed we were.” He shifts onto his side, head propped up on his elbow. Shiro keeps his eyes away from his chest. “I’m sure the rest of the team will be happy with the fact that we’re no longer seconds away from tearing each other’s throats out.”

“We weren’t that bad…”

“We got into an argument over food goo, Shiro.”

“Okay, maybe we were that bad.” Shiro frowns, unable to keep the worry out of his voice when he asks, “Is this going to change anything?”

“It doesn’t have to,” Keith says assuringly. His eyes flash with something akin to sorrow, but it’s gone before Shiro can try to focus on it. Maybe he imagined it. “We’re two friends who wanted to relieve some stress and found the perfect way to do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Keith pushes himself up and walks over to their pile of armor, digging through it while he says flippantly, “It’s just sex, right?”

“Right,” Shiro echoes, unable to tear his eyes away from the toned muscles of his back as Keith pulls on his Paladin undersuit.

His chest feels heavy, and he doesn’t know why.

 

☆ ☆

 

“ _Shiro…_ ”

Their foreheads are pressed together as Shiro shallowly rocks his hips, panting.  Keith clutches him tightly, and Shiro nearly moans at the sharp bite of nails digging into his back. Lips ghost over his own, almost a kiss but also not quite, and with another whisper of his name following.

“I got you,” Shiro breathes, snapping his hips forward. “I got you, baby.”

They’re in the sleeping quarters that the leader of this planet allowed them to use for the night, a reward for helping her people out with an internal problem. It was a bit of a challenging task, but Pidge and Hunk helped them pull through, and they were welcomed with cheers when they exited their Lions.

Shiro and Keith were drawn to each other once again, kisses harsh and biting as the adrenaline turned to heat. They left their clothes in a messy pile on the floor and climbed into bed together, where Shiro took his time taking Keith apart with his tongue until Keith yanked him up and demanded to be fucked.

He had obliged, too high-strung to make Keith beg for it like he normally would.

After the first time they fucked, things quickly grew heated between them. They couldn’t keep it to only one time, always relieving tension with each other and never acknowledging it. Sometimes, Keith initiates it. Sometimes, Shiro does.

Usually, they both do.

Shiro kisses down Keith’s throat when his head falls back, sweeping his tongue over his pulse. He wants to bite down on that spot and leave a bruise, but they’ve agreed not to leave marks to avoid questions from the rest of the team.

“Shiro,” Keith gasps, much more desperate. “C-Come on!”

“I said I’ve got you,” Shiro murmurs, threading fingers through his hair and tugging on it so he can make Keith look at him. “I’ll give you what you want. You know I will.”

Keith’s eyes roll back when he fucks in harder, deeper, and Shiro feels a wave of smug satisfaction roll through him when he hears his noises turn high-pitched and breathy. He tugs on his hair again while Keith slips a hand between them, groaning when Keith’s cunt tightens around him and pulses as he reaches his peak. Shiro pulls out to jerk himself off, releasing on Keith’s stomach.

“Made a mess,” Keith grumbles as Shiro flops down beside him.

“I don’t wanna cum all over these nice sheets,” Shiro replies, nose scrunching up. “That’s gross.”

“You do it on our blankets all the time! How is this any different?”

“We wash those ourselves,” Shiro answers. ”I’d rather not look the leader in the eyes knowing that I came all over the sheets in the room she so kindly lent us.”

“Hm. I see your point.”

Shiro watches as Keith slides his fingers through the cum on his abdomen, his ears growing hot when Keith sucks them into his mouth. Keith turns his head and locks eyes with him, brow arching as he gathers up some more to repeat the action—except he leans forward and captures Shiro's lips in a kiss.

He parts his lips automatically, face flushing when Keith pushes his own release into his mouth.

_This is… new._

Judging by the way his dick twitches, he’s also very into it.

“Why?” Shiro still whines after Keith is done.

“I had to clean up somehow,” Keith replies innocently, but the amusement gleaming in his eyes says otherwise.

“You didn’t have to do it like _that_ …”

“Are you complaining?”

Shiro, with his face still warm, quickly answers, “No.”

Keith leaves the bed to shower after a while. He leaves the door half-open, and Shiro can hear his soft singing. The water is still running even when Keith comes back, uncaring that he's naked as he towels his hair dry.

Shiro stands under the spray for a long time, relishing in the fact that he finally gets to clean himself in an actual shower instead of a lake or waterfall.

He also thinks about Keith and their arrangement.

Boundaries have yet to be set up, and Keith hasn’t bothered to bring it up. Shiro has tried, but his mouth goes dry whenever he gets close, and all he can do is stammer something out before giving up.

It’s clear that this is something that will simply stay as an arrangement.

(As if friends fucking friends has ever been simple.)

Keith is asleep when Shiro returns to the bedroom, and Kosmo is snuggled up against his side. The wolf's ears perk up when he steps closer, tongue lolling out when Shiro gives him a few head scratches.

“Stay…”

Shiro looks past Kosmo and meets Keith’s sleepy gaze, feeling a hand curl around his wrist. Keith’s eyes slip shut after a few seconds, voice softer when he repeats himself, “Stay.”

“Of course,” Shiro whispers and slides beneath the covers, taking the space beside him.

He could never deny Keith.

Kosmo wiggles between them, licking Shiro's face and making him laugh softly. Keith has already fallen back asleep, steady even breaths filling the air, and Shiro easily follows with the stray thought of how domestic this feels.

 

☆ ☆

 

They travel through space, and they fuck in the Black Lion. They weave through asteroid fields while chasing down Galra fighter ships, and they fuck in the pilot’s seat. They relax for a night, and they fuck beneath the unfamiliar stars. They find a lake to bathe in, and they fuck in the lake.

They fuck, and they fuck, and they fuck, keeping this up even when they finally land on Earth.

Everyone at the Garrison greets them with exhausted joy.

Shiro's eyes flit across all the familiar and unfamiliar faces, all carrying varying expressions of relief and hope. The sight of the Voltron Paladins seems to have relit a spark in them, making them stand taller and whisper quiet gratitudes when they pass.

Everything starts to move fast after that.

They're lead into the war room once they've washed up and changed into Garrison uniforms, trading information and formulating a tentative plan to take out Sendak and his men. They don't want to alert the Galra to the fact that Voltron is on Earth, so using it is out of the question.

Shiro's head is reeling from all the things they need to do, and he can already feel the stress creeping up on him. It doesn't help that he has to waste time getting used to his new arm, which only adds to the tension in his shoulders.

He could be out there doing something more important.

Keith manages to drag him into a supply closet when Shiro is taking a walk to clear his head, eager hands pulling him close and hot breaths fanning over his lips. He paws at Shiro's officer jacket, and Shiro quickly gives in.

He fucks him against the wall, Keith’s back against his chest as Shiro curls a hand around his throat and muffles his groans against his shoulders. They’ve both kept most of their clothes on, which makes the air feel even more hot and sticky as they stay pressed together. Sweat drips down his forehead as they grind against each other, panting against Keith’s shoulder.

Shiro has to slide his hand up to cover Keith’s mouth when his noises get a bit too loud, feeling Keith pulse around him at the action. The two of them turn desperate as they near their completion, Shiro pulling out and coming all over Keith’s exposed thighs while his fingers slip over Keith’s engorged clit to get him off.

Afterward, when they’re both catching their breaths and still pressed closed together, Shiro hears Keith quietly say, “Please be careful.”

Shiro lifts his head and makes a questioning noise.

“Be careful,” Keith repeats, voice ever soft. “Whatever happens next, Shiro, just… be careful. I can’t lose you again.”

He swallows and grips Keith’s hip tighter, leaning in to press a kiss to Keith’s shoulder. “I’ll be careful,” he promises. “You too, okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith replies, and then he falls silent.

They clean up and leave the supply closet as if nothing ever happened, and then they’re drawn into another meeting.

An infiltration mission is planned out in hopes of gaining information on what the Galra are planning, everyone eager to take the next step and take them out for good.

After they complete the mission, Shiro doesn't have the time to worry about anything other than eliminating Earth's threat—Sendak's Zaiforge cannons. He has to trust that the Paladins can do their jobs without his guidance, and free themselves from Sendak's cruiser while he remains grounded with the Atlas crew.

(There’s still a low thrum of panic that pulses through him, which dissipates when he hears Keith’s voice come through the comm.)

Shiro becomes Captain of the Atlas, he fights Sendak and watches Keith kill him (and isn’t that a relief? To know that he won’t have to take another life), he pilots the Atlas when it becomes a giant mech and protects Voltron from the new threat.

He watches the five Lions hit the Earth hard enough to make it shake and feels the walls close in on him when they receive no response from the Paladins.

The Garrison medical team is able to extract them from their Lions one by one, everyone in the Atlas waiting with bated breath for an update on their condition. Relief sends him to his knees when he hears that they’re all breathing. Banged up and unconscious, but still alive.

Shiro breathes easier when he’s able to see them with his own eyes. They’re all being wheeled into the Garrison medical wing on stretchers with their families at their sides, and Shiro is immediately drawn to Keith.

He stays with him.

 _Keith is my best friend,_ Shiro tells himself when he starts to feel guilty for being more worried about him than the others. _Of course I’m going to feel more for him._

This reassurance stays with him when he starts spending nights in Keith’s hospital room, hoping that he’ll open his eyes and prove to Shiro that he’s truly okay.

(A part of him hopes that he’ll be the first one to see Keith wake up.)

The other Paladins are the first to wake, long before Keith does, and he makes sure to stop by and have a chat with them—praise them for the battle they fought and how far they’ve come since they first arrived at the Castle of Lions.

They ask about Keith, and he has to swallow around the lump in his throat when he tells them that he hasn’t woken up yet.

It finally happens when he’s out delivering a speech, loss curling around his heart and hope renewing his spirit at the same time. He steps away from the podium once he’s done and accepts all the hugs the pilots give him, only to be pulled aside by one of his fellow officers to inform him of the good news.

He rushes to the Garrison infirmary and stops at the doorway, breathing hard as his eyes flick all around the room. Kolivan and Krolia are smiling at him (he dips his head in greeting), and then he finally looks at Keith—sitting against the pillows, looking so _alive._

Krolia and Kolivan leave the room when he enters, stumbling over to the chair beside Keith’s hospital bed and collapsing on it. He scoots forward to press his forehead against the cold rail of the bed, exhaling shakily.

“It’s good to have you back,” he whispers.

A warm hand grips his own and squeezes it, and Keith has the brightest smile on his face when he looks up.

“It’s good to be back,” Keith replies quietly, and Shiro squeezes back.

 

☆ ☆

 

Celebrations occur after the Atlas is all fixed up, civilians and Garrison officers wanting to enjoy the fact that they're still alive. Everyone agrees to have the party on a cool summer night, Coran taking the lead on party planning.

Shiro arrives halfway through the party, busy with duties relating to the Atlas, and he thinks _‘not bad’_ when he sees what Coran did.

A few large canopies have been placed side by side, fairy lights strung up along the top and creating a rather mystical air when paired with the small Balmeran crystals that dangle alongside the lights. There are plastic chairs and tables scattered here and there, though a majority of the people have gathered in the center to dance to the music that’s pouring out of two large speakers.

Food and drinks are being passed around. Laughter is filling the air. Bright smiles are shared between strangers and aliens.

Everyone is happy.

Shiro is inordinately pleased to see it, smiling to himself as he scans the area for his friends.

He spots Hunk and Pidge sitting at a table near the Lions, Lance and Allura dancing together, Coran talking to Iverson beside the speakers, and Krolia is sitting with Kolivan and some of the other blades on benches.

Shiro waves as he nears the table, frowning when he doesn’t see Keith. He’s about to ask where he is when Keith appears in a flash of blue light (Kosmo’s doing), reaching out to grip his arm when he falls against Shiro.

“Keith?”

“Shiro!” Keith exclaims with bright eyes and cheeks flushed red, a lazy smile stretched across his face. His uniform is much more rumpled, top buttons undone and exposing sharp collarbones. “Hi!” he chirps, throwing himself against Shiro’s chest. “I was lookin’ for you!”

“I’m right here, Keith,” Shiro says, amused. He lets Keith wrap himself around Shiro while keeping his bionic arm curled around his shoulders, looking over at Pidge and Hunk. They stare back at him with twin grins. “How much has he had?” he asks.

“Three cups of something fruity and strong,” Pidge answers, words slurring a bit. She has Matt’s cloak wrapped around her shoulders like a blanket, glasses askew. “We had to hide the fourth one.”

Shiro pointedly looks at the cup in her hand. “Does drinking it count as hiding?

“Hey! We saved Earth! I’d say we deserve this!” She nearly falls out of her seat when she nudges Hunk, who is drinking something that’s colored a neon blue. “Right, Hunk?”

“Right!” Hunk nods, finishing off the rest of his drink and pointing at Shiro. His Garrison jacket is tied around his waist, showing off a tank that looks similar to what the Balmerans wear. “Plus, our parents were okay with it.”

“That too,” Pidge says.

Shiro shakes his head fondly and looks down when he feels a tug at his jacket. Keith’s staring up at him with a pout, which quickly shifts into a pleased smile once Shiro’s attention is on him.

“Shiro,” Keith says, dragging out the ‘o’ in his name. Kosmo, who had been gnawing at the legs of an empty chair, lifts his head and joins in with a soft howl. Keith falls into a fit of giggles afterward, rubbing his cheek against Shiro’s chest.

“Yes, Keith?” Shiro asks, threading fingers through his soft hair and gently separating the knots. “What do you need?”

“You,” Keith drawls out, and suddenly he’s being yanked towards the table that has all the drinks. “I think you need t’relax a little, _Captain Shirogane._ ” His voice drops to a husky whisper when he speaks his title, and Shiro has to fight his shiver.

“R-Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “You’re right. I’ll have a couple of drinks, and then I’m dragging you off to bed. How does that sound?”

“Great!” Keith crows, snatching up one of the bright red drinks and chugging it down before Shiro can stop him. He manages to prevent him from grabbing another, drinking it himself so Keith won’t take it away and grimacing at the taste. It’s too fruity for his taste buds, but he’ll manage.

Shiro guides Keith to sit at the table with Hunk and Pidge, watching Lance and Allura continue with their drunk dancing together. Pidge gets her phone out at some point, taking videos of the two to share in the morning. He restrains his chuckle when he imagines the matching red cheeks they’ll have when they watch them, finishing off his drink and accepting another from Matt when he passes by.

He’s nursing his third drink by the time the party starts dying down, Keith snuggled up to his side as he languidly pets down Kosmo’s flank. Shiro is relaxed, loose enough to wrap an arm around Keith and tug him even closer.

His warmth is intoxicating, and Shiro occasionally gets a whiff of his hair when Keith shifts—coconut, with a hint of something flowery.

It’s nice.

Keith is nice.

How does Keith always smell so nice?

Pidge and Hunk disappear with their families after a while, too tired to do anything more and eager to spend time with their loved ones. Shiro waves them off and decides to stay with Keith, the two of them sitting in a comfortable silence.

He brings a hand up to play with the hair that’s grown past the nape of Keith’s neck, releasing a breath when he hears the low moan that comes from Keith when he carefully tugs on a few strands. Keith peers up at him with dark, heated eyes, and Shiro’s gaze is drawn to his lips when a pink tongue pokes out for a second.

“Shiro,” Keith says slowly, shifting forward and almost falling off his chair. Shiro catches him in time, and then Keith is on his lap with his face tucked into Shiro’s neck. “Want you,” he mumbles next, hot breath ghosting over his skin and making him shiver. “Les’go to Black… or your room… c’mon…”

Apparently, Keith is clingy _and_ horny when drunk.

Judging by the heat that pools in his gut when he feels teeth graze his pulse point, Shiro might be the latter as well.

Shiro makes sure to say goodbye to the people that are still here, ears burning hot when he catches sight of Krolia’s knowing look as he starts leaving the party with Keith. Kosmo trots off to sit beside her, and Shiro swears that the wolf also glances at him knowingly.

It’s not a long trip to his quarters, but it feels longer with the anticipation thrumming through his veins. Keith is already trying to tear off his jacket by the time they make it to his door, warm hands slipping beneath his shirt and sending heat through him when fingernails drag over his abdomen.

Their clothes end up a mess on the floor seconds after they enter his room, Shiro guiding them to his bed and kissing down Keith’s naked chest. He starts to trail his flesh hand down Keith’s body, ready to spread him open, and is stopped by Keith gripping his wrist.

“Use your other hand,” Keith slurs when Shiro looks up at him. “Wanna feel it…”

Shiro’s cheeks flush red, and he obeys.

His new hand is so much bigger than the old one, but he still manages a gentle touch with just a thought. He circles Keith’s clit with his thumb, watching the way his lips part with a breathy sound and the way his blush spreads to his chest.

He spreads him open with two fingers once Keith gets wet enough, crooking them to see Keith arch with an unabashed cry. Shiro presses his smile against a thigh when Keith starts grinding against them, noises freely spilling out of him.

Shiro’s soon sinking inside, groan muffled against Keith’s throat. Heels dig into his ass when he starts up a slow rhythm, a soft plea urging him to go _faster, harder, deeper._

They exchange messy kisses while they fuck, bed creaking with their movements and sweat dripping down their bodies. Keith’s nails dig into his back when Shiro fucks in at a different angle, the loud whine telling him that he hit that perfect spot, and the sharp sting of his nails almost feels like ownership.

Feeling bold, Shiro bites down over where Keith’s pulse is racing. He moans when Keith abruptly tightens around him and cries out, cunt pulsating with his orgasm. Shiro’s hips stutter, hot breaths fanning across Keith’s throat as he chases his own release.

A hand sinks into his tuft of hair and yanks it up, forcing him to meet Keith’s beautiful, dark eyes.

“Stay inside, stay inside,” Keith is whispering, letting go of Shiro’s hair and cupping his face. Shiro grinds into him, enjoying the audible hitch of his breath. “Shiro, please. Want you to stay inside…”

“God, Keith,” he says brokenly.

Shiro buries his face into Keith’s neck again as he pulls out and slams back in, repeating this once, twice, before finally coming with a drawn-out groan. His hips stutter as he releases inside Keith, slumping on top of him as his orgasm leaves him completely relaxed and boneless.

“Crushing me…” He hears Keith grumble.

“Sorry,” he whispers, slowly pulling out of him and moving to lie down next to him. Shiro turns his head to watch Keith yawn, eyes blinking rapidly in his attempt to fight sleep. It’s a bit…

 _Adorable,_ his drunken mind provides.

“Tired?” he asks, shifting to grab the comforter and his blanket.

“Nuh-uh,” Keith responds but his eyes are already closed, and his noise of protest is very faint as Shiro covers the both of them. “M’not tired, you are.”

“Go t’sleep,” Shiro mumbles, pulling the blanket up higher around their bodies. He shifts onto his side and easily moves Keith so his back is facing Shiro, curling a hand around his waist to reel him in closer. Shiro presses a kiss to his shoulder as his eyes slip shut, murmuring, “See you in the morning…”

His dreams are full of deformed shapes and unrecognizable shadows, no stability to the fleeting images as they warp, form, collapse, and warp again—a confusing cycle that forces him to awaken sooner than he’d like, blearily peering into the darkness.

It takes a second for him to realize that Keith is no longer in his arms.

A surge of panic wells up within him, but his body feels too heavy for him to get up and search for his best friend. It soon fades away when he hears a familiar sigh beside him, blinking several times until he finds Keith’s form.

He’s sitting up against the pillows, staring off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest.

Shiro can picture the expression on his face: nose scrunched up just a tad, brows furrowed, and lips drawn into a pout as he remains lost in thought. He wants to ask what’s wrong, but his mouth refuses to cooperate with him.

Another sigh fills the air, dragging Shiro's focus back to Keith. Something is clearly wrong, and Shiro desperately wants to comfort him.

His hand inches forward, intent on squeezing Keith's knee to let him know that he's there, and stills when he hears Keith whisper:

“I wish I could hate you.”

Shiro lies there, frozen, as he takes in those words. They’re clearly directed at him since they’re the only two in the bedroom, but Shiro doesn’t know what he _means._

Keith doesn’t elaborate, lying back down without speaking another word. Shiro feels a spike of pain when he hears Keith’s faint hitched breath, followed by the tiniest sniffle; he’s crying, Shiro realizes, and he doesn’t want to be heard.

 _I’ll talk to him in the morning,_ Shiro tells himself as sleep threatens to take hold of him again, half-lidded gaze on Keith’s trembling shoulders. _I don’t want him to be upset, I want him to be happy…_

When he wakes again, sun shining through his curtains, Keith is gone.

 

☆ ☆

 

His concern for Keith outweighs the pounding of his head, and it gives him the energy to fall out of bed to head into the bathroom. He hastily brushes his teeth, eyeing the dark circles under his eyes and the pallor of his skin—god, he’s never drinking again.

Shiro is pulling on his cleaner uniform set (he still has to look like the put together Captain that he’s supposed to be, no matter how hungover he is) and leaves the room with the intent to search for Keith.

He bumps right into Adam.

“Oh,” he says, staring at him with astonishment. Adam was the last person he expected to see outside his room. “Adam, hi.”

Adam had been severely injured in the second wave of Sendak’s attack, left with burns on the right side of his body. He’d been confined to his room while he’d been recovering, only allowed to go into the war room when there were important matters to discuss.

Iverson had informed him of all this when Shiro was standing at the memorial wall, searching for Adam’s name. It had been a relief to hear that he was still alive, and the guilt that had been weighing him down for so long suddenly lightened.

Shiro caught glimpses of him here and there, but he couldn’t bring himself to reach out to him—the memory of Adam's final words still seared into his mind.

Also, fighting the Galra was definitely more important than attempting to mend bridges with his ex.

After they defeated Sendak and saved Earth, he still hadn’t tried. Shiro was busy settling into the role of a leader once again, boosting morale for the people still alive and rebuilding relationships with previous Coalition members.

He figured it would become another lost connection, especially when Adam didn’t try to talk to him as well.

Until now, it seems.

Adam’s smile contains a touch of sadness when he says, “Hey, Takashi. It’s good to see you.”

“Shiro,” he absently corrects, eyes catching the discolored skin on the side of his face—healed burns. “I go by Shiro.”

Pink spreads across Adam’s cheeks. “Oh, r-right,” he says, embarrassment clear in his words. “Shiro, then.” He clears his throat and seems to stand up straighter, expression determined. “Listen, I was wondering if we could talk.”

“Talk,” Shiro repeats cautiously, eyes flicking away to look down the hall in hopes of spotting Keith—nope. Damn. “What about?”

“About everything,” Adam says. “We could go grab a coffee in the lounge and catch up. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, Shiro. I thought it would be nice to get to know each other again.”

That grabs Shiro’s attention, along with the hopeful note to his words.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro says regretfully. “I can’t right now; I have to go find Keith.” He pauses and tacks on hesitantly, “Maybe some other time?”

Disappointment flickers across Adam’s face. “Of course,” he says, a little too flatly, and dips his head. “Some other time, then.” He reaches out and places a hand on Shiro’s right arm, and the gesture makes Shiro grow tense—unused to the touch from someone other than Keith.

Adam is quick to withdraw, thankfully, and they say their goodbyes before walking off in opposite directions.

Shiro searches for Keith in all the places one would expect the Red Paladin to be: his quarters, the hangars where all the ships are, near the Voltron Lions, inside the Atlas, in the cafeteria with the other Paladins, and out on the Garrison grounds.

There’s no sign of him in any of these locations, and no one seems to know where he is when he asks around. Not even Krolia, who remains calm and collected as always when he expresses his concern for Keith.

“He’s fine,” Krolia says confidently, eyes fixed on the datapad in front of her. “But it’s quite obvious that he doesn’t want to be found. He needs space, and you have to respect that." She smiles at him, reaching over to pat his shoulder. The strength of it is almost enough to send him flying forwards. "He’ll come to you when he’s good and ready.”

Shiro releases a strained laugh and rubs his aching shoulder, discreetly stepping away from her.

He knows that Krolia is right.

That’s how Keith is.

 

☆ ☆

 

Shiro busies himself with Garrison duties in the days that pass.

It helps takes his mind off Keith and prevents him from instinctively seeking him out whenever things become overwhelming, too drained to do anything but sleep when his day comes to an end.

He does see Kosmo sneaking around the kitchens one night, carrying a bag that’s full of microwaveable foods. Shiro can guess who it’s all for, and slides in a packet of Keith’s favorite snack before Kosmo teleports away—nothing too grand, just biscuits covered in dark chocolate.

Kosmo huffs at him, nudging his thigh until Shiro scratches behind his ears. The wolf lingers for a few seconds, disappearing after he gently grabs a water bottle with his mouth.

“At least he’s eating,” Shiro mutters, grabbing a packet of the same biscuits for himself and heading for one of the Garrison lounges.

Rizavi, Kinkade, Leifsdottir, and Veronica are sitting on one of the couches, quietly chatting with one another. They wave at him when he enters, and Veronica gestures to the coffee maker by the sink.

There’s hot chocolate in the pot, and the smell is too tantalizing for him to resist.

“Where’s Griffin?” Shiro asks, coffee mug in hand as he carefully sits across them. He opens the packet of biscuits and offers it to them, taking one out to eat while he drinks. “I’m used to seeing the five of you together.”

“He said he had something to take care of,” Veronica replies, brow arching. “Also, we’re not _always_ together. We have lives outside of each other. Sometimes we don’t know where one person is, and that’s okay.”

“But we do spend a lot of time together,” Rizavi chimes in, mouth curled at the corners. She nibbles on her biscuit. “It’s understandable that Captain Shirogane would assume that we keep tabs on each other. I’m sure he’s the same way with the Paladins.”

“You’re not wrong,” Shiro says with a faint chuckle, smile faltering when he recalls Keith’s disappearance.

He covers it up by sipping at his hot chocolate, nearly groaning over the taste. It’s so smooth and sweet. Shiro wants to savor it for the rest of his days.

The door to the lounge opens, dragging Shiro’s attention away from his delicious drink. He has the faintest hope that Keith will be standing there, finally ready to talk to him, and is disappointed when he sees Adam instead.

“Shiro,” Adam says with a smile. “Hi again.”

Shiro dips his head in greeting.

The MFE pilots and Veronica abruptly says their goodbyes and leave the room, and it’s soon filled with silence as Adam and Shiro stare at one another. Adam eventually releases a sigh and walks over to take the empty couch across Shiro.

“I know you said that we could talk some other time, but I just can’t wait anymore,” he says, expression serious. “I don’t want to lose this second chance.”

Shiro frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—” Adam sighs again and leans back against the cushions. "I do want to catch up with you, but first I have to apologize for what I said to you before the Kerberos mission."

“Adam…” Shiro breathes, dropping his gaze to his mug. “It’s okay. It’s in the past.”

“It’s _not_ okay, Shiro. It was wrong of me to make you choose between myself and the mission. I was just… _angry_ that you wanted to kill yourself faster and not spend the rest of your years with _me,_ your partner.” Adam huffs out a self-deprecating laugh. “I was only thinking of myself, and our future.”

This apology is not what he was expecting.

Shiro spent so much time stewing in guilt after they broke up, but he was not at all conflicted over his choice. Kerberos was something he dreamed about, traveling through space is what he always wanted, and he wasn’t going to let the chance to go there slip through his fingers just because Adam didn’t want him to go.

“I guess I was selfish, too,” Shiro finds himself saying quietly, finally voicing the thoughts he could never say out loud. “I understand, I really do, but you know it was what I wanted. I wasn't going to let my disease get in the way of accomplishing that.” His eyes flick over to his right hand, bionic fingers curling inwards with just a thought. “Even if I gave in and decided to stay off the Kerberos mission… I don’t think our future could have happened.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I would have resented you,” Shiro answers honestly. “I think our relationship would have eventually fallen apart, had I stayed. You wanted this future where I was by your side, the both of us doing everything we could to make our time last longer. It’s not fair that you expected me to live out my life with you without actually letting me _live_ my life.”

Adam lets out a breath. “I see.”

“I loved you, Adam,” Shiro says. “I really did, but the mission…” He sighs. “I didn’t want to regret not seizing the opportunity to go, especially if I had a few years left to live.”

“No, I understand. I’m glad you told me.” A wry smile appears on Adam’s face. “The Shiro from before wouldn’t have been able to.”

Shiro chuckles. “You’re right about that.”

“I also wanted more time with you,” Adam says, smoothing his hair back. “I always knew it would be limited. Remember how you were after the previous mission? Confined to your bed, forced to go to physical therapy and relearn how to use your muscles…”

“I remember.”

“Kerberos would have been worse for you, and I’d be left sitting by your hospital bed while you just got worse.”

“You would have been there anyways,” he replies, taking another sip of his hot chocolate. It’s lukewarm now, but still good. “Five years after, ten years after; who knows? We would still end up there, eventually.”

“Yeah, I know…”

Their eyes lock, and Shiro offers a sympathetic smile. “You’re not a bad person for feeling that way,” he tells him, tapping his nails along the ceramic mug. “We were only thinking of ourselves at the time because we both wanted different things. I don’t regret the choice that I made. Do you?”

“No,” Adam replies. “I don’t.”

The silence that follows is more comfortable than awkward.

Shiro focuses on finishing off the rest of his hot chocolate, pleased that he was able to make things right with Adam and get the closure he desired.  He pops a biscuit into his mouth and glances over at Adam to offer him one, freezing when he sees that he’s already looking back with a strange expression on his face.

“What?” he asks. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no. I just wanted to ask one more thing.” Adam continues after Shiro nods, “How was space?”

Shiro smiles.

He talks about the adventures he’s been on, the different planets he visited, all the friendly aliens he encountered along the way, and the battles where they were victorious. Shiro even tells him about the Voltron shows that they did to try and draw people into the cause, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment while Adam laughs his ass off.

He doesn’t mention his time as a prisoner of the Galra, or what he was forced to do to survive in the arena, or how he lost his arm, or how he died and had his consciousness transferred into the body of a clone. Shiro doesn’t mention the torture he was put through to make him theirs, or how he felt like a monster—remade to be a weapon for the Galra and broken in so many different ways.

Shiro definitely doesn’t tell him that dying felt like a relief instead of a punishment, finally free from the pain that his body put him through and the responsibility of being a put together leader at all times.

It’s a thought that always fills him with shame, and yet it continues to stick with him.

He makes sure to touch on the fact that Keith is the reason he’s here today, keeping it to that simple statement before moving on to talk about what it was like piloting the Black Lion.

(Shiro certainly doesn’t bring up the fact that he’s been fucking Keith for some time now.)

If Adam suspects that he’s holding back on information, he doesn’t mention it. Shiro’s grateful, especially since he's not comfortable discussing his personal horrors with someone who won't understand.

Truthfully, there’s only one person that can: Keith.

“We should do this again,” Adam says when they finally leave the lounge, a faint smile. “I missed you, Shiro. I missed being friends with you.”

“Yeah, we can,” Shiro replies with a smile of his own. He missed him too, he realizes. “I’ve been busy welcoming our Voltron Coalition allies and helping with the Atlas repairs, but maybe we can meet up whenever I’m free.”

“Do you think there’s another chance for us?” Adam abruptly asks.

The question makes him rear back in surprise, eyes going wide. Adam’s expression remains impassive, though the tips of his ears turn red the longer no one speaks.

Shiro clears his throat. “I don’t know,” he answers truthfully, frowning. “Is that why you wanted to talk? To see if I was interested in getting back together?”

At least Adam looks a bit guilty when he says, “Partially, yeah.”

“I don’t think I can be with you if you’re expecting things to be the same,” Shiro says quietly. “We’ve both changed since the last time we saw each other, Adam.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Adam replies with a hissed breath, stepping closer. “I know you’re a different person now. I am too, but that doesn’t change how I feel.”

“Oh,” Shiro says, surprised. “You still—”

“Yes, I do.” Adam lets out a breath, reaching out to touch Shiro’s left arm. Shiro lets him. “I want to get to know this new you, and I want you to know this new me. I don’t want to hop back into our relationship like the last few years didn’t happen. I grieved for you. Nothing can change that.” He visibly swallows. “I want to start over with you, Shiro. Maybe we can have a new future together.”

Shiro says nothing.

Adam steps away from him, friendly smile in place. “Think about it, okay? I won’t be hurt if you say no.” He walks past Shiro, waving his hand. “See you around, Shiro.”

 

☆ ☆

 

Shiro doesn’t know how he got here—standing in front of Keith’s door, left hand poised to knock.

He considers going through with it, knocking and seeking the comfort he desperately needs, but then he remembers that Keith hasn't been around these past few days. Who’s to say that he even wants to see Shiro right now?

Shiro shoves the hand into his pocket and takes a step back. He’s fully prepared to head back to his room and spend the night alone when the door abruptly slides open.

Keith is standing there, dressed in a button-down shirt that goes to his mid-thigh, the one that he stole from Shiro, and nothing else.

“Shiro,” he says in surprise. His voice softens, the way it usually sounds whenever they talk. “Is something wrong?”

Of course he can tell. He always could. Sometimes, it feels like Keith knows him better than he knows himself.

He’s always ready to lend a helping hand without Shiro needing to ask, and always by his side before Shiro even realizes that he needs him.

Shiro doesn’t even know if he deserves a friend like Keith, but he’s going to let himself be selfish right now.

“I don’t—” Shiro starts, pausing to take a breath. “I just—” He’s become too frazzled to think, eyes fixed on the way Keith’s hair curls around his face. “I feel lost,” he whispers after a while, curling in on himself. “I don’t know what to do…”

Keith reaches out to grab his wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. Now, all Shiro can focus on is his warmth. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, eyes earnest and kind. “You know I'm always here for you, for _whatever_ you need.”

Shiro swallows, hearing the offer in his words.

He leans into Keith's space and slides his other hand down to grip his hip. “I’d rather not talk right now,” he tells him. “I want to not think for a while.”

Keith’s eyes go dark, and he inclines his head before wrapping his arms around Shiro. Their lips meet for a heated kiss that Shiro sinks into, letting himself be drawn into the room as he slips a hand beneath Keith’s shirt.

The door shuts behind them.

Clothes are tossed across the room, hands pressing bruises into each other’s skin as they fall into bed together. Their moans are lost in the biting kisses they exchange, pressed close together as they work themselves up.

Keith is the one who takes the lead this time, pinning Shiro down by his wrists while they grind against each other. He even teases Shiro by allowing the tip of his cock slip into his cunt, lips stretched into a faint smirk whenever Shiro bucks his hips to try and fuck in deeper.

He can’t, Keith doesn’t let him go farther than that, and he finally does something when Shiro utters a hoarse, _“Please.”_

Shiro’s surprised when Keith lifts off of him completely and moves to settle between his thighs. A strangled moan slips out when Keith takes his cock into his mouth, and Shiro squeezes his eyes shut as he drops his head back on the pillow.

Hands squeeze his thigh and spread them further while Shiro’s hips instinctively thrust up into the wet heat, lips parting with a soft sound. He holds back from fucking Keith’s mouth, losing himself to the pleasure.

Then, he feels a slick finger prodding at his hole.

“K-Keith,” he gasps, face burning hot when it sinks inside after circling the rim a few times. His hips buck, forcing his cock deeper into Keith’s mouth, and the sound of his moan is enough to make him whimper. “Fuck, Keith…”

Keith doesn’t look up at him, entirely focused on sucking him off. Another finger joins the first after a while, and Shiro can’t contain any of his noises when Keith begins to fuck him with them. He whimpers when Keith pins his twitching hips down with his forearm, adding to the increasing pressure and heat in his gut.

A cry slips out when he finally comes, releasing into Keith’s mouth. His face burns hot when he _feels_ Keith swallowing around him, a string of saliva connecting his lips to Shiro’s cock when he pulls off.

Keith slides his fingers out and climbs up, drawing Shiro in for a messy kiss. Shiro can taste himself on Keith’s tongue, which distracts him from the hand traveling between their bodies until it wraps around his cock.

“I can’t,” he breathes when Keith starts stroking him, eyes stinging with tears at the sharp pleasure that shoots down his spine—too oversensitive. “Keith, I _can’t._ ”

“You can,” Keith says in a low voice. “And you will.”

The night ends with Keith sinking down on him once he’s hard again, Shiro letting out a weak moan when he feels hot walls squeezing around him. Keith’s expression is both smug and satisfied, fingers gentle when they brush over Shiro’s cheek.

“Told you,” he says, and then starts moving.

Keith’s pace is fast as he rides him, nails scratching over Shiro’s chest. They don’t say anything more, and Shiro gets lost in the feel of Keith around him and above him. He surges upwards to nip at Keith’s collarbone, hands tight on his hips while he fucks up into him.

Fingers sink into his hair and force his head up with a sharp tug.

He meets golden yellow eyes, and his flesh hand slips over Keith’s sweaty hip when he realizes that Keith is losing control over this. Shiro feels sharp teeth graze over his bottom lip when they meet for a kiss, then the taste of copper on his tongue.

Things slow down as they near their completion, pace growing steady and kisses turning sweet. It feels far more soft and intimate than usual, and Shiro doesn’t know what to make of it.

“You okay now?” Keith murmurs afterwards, petting through Shiro’s hair. His eyes are still yellow, pupils slit-like and fixed on him.

Shiro swallows and nods, hips twitching when Keith grinds down playfully.

Keith kisses him one last time before lifting himself off, and Shiro’s gaze is drawn to the globs of cum that spill out of his cunt.

“Sorry,” he mutters, brushing his fingers over his folds. “You didn’t even ask this time.”

“S’okay, I liked it.”

Shiro cleans himself up with some tissues while Keith heads to the bathroom. He stares up at the ceiling after he tosses them into the trash, enjoying the blankness in his mind as he just… drifts.

How long has it been since he was able to exist like this? No worry, no panic, no fear…

“Wanna watch a movie?” Keith asks from the bathroom, dragging Shiro back to reality. “We can watch a sci-fi one and make fun of how inaccurate the aliens are.”

“Only if there’s no alien abduction,” Shiro replies. “I’ve already had my fill.”

“Does that include the sexy kind? I’m pretty sure there’s a collection of those somewhere in this room.”

“You have alien pornos?”

“It came with the room,” Keith replies defensively, returning to Shiro’s side. “I think most of them involve abductions, though. Alien abductions and eggs, those two are popular.”

“Do you think the Galra have eggs?” Shiro asks innocently, laughing when Keith starts hitting him with a pillow. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I take it back! The Galra don’t have eggs! You don’t have eggs! Please, stop hitting me!”

“You should know that I don’t have eggs,” Keith says with an indignant sniff, tossing the pillow aside. “You’re the only one who fucks me, after all.”

Keith puts on a loose tank and some boyshorts, tossing Shiro a pair of sweats when he heads into the bathroom. They decide on a movie where an alien parasite falls in love with a human, and they sit on the bed with their backs to the wall, thigh pressed against thigh as they watch the movie in a comfortable silence. It’s hard to focus on the screen when Keith’s warmth is by his side, dragging Shiro’s focus to him time and time again.

Shiro is still pretty worn out from their earlier activities, and yet he finds himself drawn to the idea of laying Keith out on the bed and taking him apart with his tongue while the movie runs in the background.

A flash of blue light brings him back to reality, leaving him pink-cheeked as he quickly looks away from Keith to stare down at the lump of blue fur that's sprawled across their laps. Kosmo’s tongue lolls out, tail wagging when he realizes that he has their attention. He begins to wiggle around insistently and only calms down after Keith scratches behind his ears. Shiro joins in when Kosmo peers at him with sad eyes.

“Spoiled,” Keith grumbles, but there’s a smile on his face.

Shiro laughs, glancing over at him. He pauses when he catches sight of the shadows under his eyes, more prominent in the light coming off the television screen. Keith doesn't seem too interested in the film, gaze unfocused as he stares at the screen—lost in thought, perhaps.

He suddenly remembers seeing a similar expression the night after the party, his worry making a return.

“Hey, Keith?” he starts, continuing after he receives an affirming hum in response. “Um, the other night—”

“Sorry for leaving, by the way,” Keith says, looking over at him with an apologetic smile. “I had a lot of things to do. I should have left a note, or sent a message so you wouldn’t worry about me.”

“Nothing’s going to stop me from worrying about you,” Shiro says, quickly continuing before the conversation derails completely. “You, uh—I heard you say something that night and I wanted to ask about it.”

“I said something?” Keith’s face is confused. “I was asleep the whole time, Shiro. You might have dreamt it.”

His voice is a bit higher than usual, and he won’t meet Shiro’s eyes—he’s lying.

“Oh,” Shiro says, well aware of when he shouldn’t push for answers. Keith obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, and even though Shiro wants to help him work through the issue, Keith’s comfort is more important. “Maybe you’re right, sorry.”

“What about you?” Keith asks in a much softer voice, nudging his side with his elbow. “Wanna talk about what’s bothering you now? You know I’m here to listen.”

“I don’t know,” Shiro says haltingly.

“Shiro. All you’re going to do is push the problem away and never acknowledge it, and then it’ll fester and grow until it eats you alive.” Keith somehow manages to sound both exasperated and matter-of-fact, a feat that only he can accomplish. “It’s better to get it out now.”

“I know, I know. I just… I don’t know where to start.”

“Take your time, Shiro. I’m not going anywhere.”

As much as he'd like to not think about it, Shiro knows that Keith is right. If he doesn't face this now, then he's going to end up as Keith described.

He used to let the issue take its course and guide him down that path, but now he's not so sure he wants to fall back on old habits.

 _Might as well,_ he thinks, readying himself with a deep breath.

“I had a long talk with Adam,” Shiro begins, staring down at his hands. The fingers in his mechanical arm whir softly when he curls them, keeping it clenched in his lap while he speaks, “He apologized for how he left things before Kerberos and explained his own feelings on the matter. I managed to find my voice and told him how I felt about it, too.”

“That’s good,” Keith says. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Shiro admits with a wry smile, which fades into a frown as he gets into the actual problem. “Adam wants another shot at a relationship with me. He wants us to start over together and told me to think on it when I couldn't muster up a proper reply."

“Well, what do you want?”

That makes him pause.

No one has ever asked him that before. No one besides Keith that is. He’s probably been the only person in Shiro’s life who has considered Shiro’s needs and wants instead of just barrelling through and making decisions for him.

It gives him the courage to speak his thoughts, lay out his confusion in hopes of finding the answer he desperately needs.

And maybe that gives him the courage to speak his thoughts, lay out his confusion in hopes of finding the answer he desperately needs.

“I don’t know,” Shiro says, fingers combing through Kosmo’s fur. “People don’t just… hop back into relationships with their exes, right?”

“Some people do,” Keith muses. “Mostly out of comfort or safety, though. It might not be like that for you two if you decided to date him again.”

“I guess you’re right…”

“When aren’t I?” Keith counters and they both share a laugh. Then, his expression flickers to one of seriousness. “I think you should do whatever makes you happy,” he says. “If that means being Adam’s boyfriend, then do it. If it means staying single forever, then do it. If you believe happiness is taking the Atlas out for a trip to the beach, then do it!”

“Pretty sure I’m not allowed to do that last bit,” Shiro remarks dryly.

“The point is,” Keith continues as if Shiro hadn’t said a thing, twitching lips giving away the act. "Do it if you think you'll be happy, but don't agree because you don't want to break his heart. That'll end up hurting the both of you." He grabs Shiro’s bionic hand, so small when compared to the metal. “Don't rush it, either. You have enough time to think it through. No matter what you decide, I’m here to support you.”

Shiro laughs weakly, reaching up with his free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Keith’s ear. “When did you become so wise and grown up?” he asks fondly.

“I didn’t do it on my own,” Keith says with a smile. “I had some help.”

“Thank you,” Shiro murmurs. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“What are friends for?”

Shiro thinks he hears a small break in Keith’s voice at the word ‘friends,’ but there's no trace of upset on Keith's face when Shiro glances over. He figures it was just his imagination and turns his attention back to the movie, which is nearing its end.

 _“I love you!”_ the alien parasite declares passionately, holding onto their human lover while the world falls apart around them. Buildings are collapsing, the ground is cracking, and nearly everything is on fire—and yet they only have eyes for each other.

 _“I love you too!”_ the human replies with an equal amount of passion. They’re practically clinging to each other, pressed close enough that it’s hard to tell where one begins and one ends. _“I love you more than anything!”_

Even as death draws near, they look unafraid.

 _As long as they have each other, they won’t be afraid,_ Shiro realizes.

His right hand stays in Keith’s grasp.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! School has been really kicking my ass. This chapter is a bit longer and it is in Keith's POV, so it's a big difference from the first chapter that I gave. I hope you all enjoy it! And, also. Thank you to Audrey, Aki, and Mack for looking this over for me... ily all.
> 
> Also, again, thanks to Vinny for this wonderful AU. It's become my favorite thing to write and think about. ILU!!!! <3!
> 
> **WARNINGS:** AFAB Language, PIV Sex, Oral Sex (Cunnilingus), Unprotected Sex, Unplanned Pregnancy, FTM Pregnancy.

The day starts like this.

Keith wakes up in Shiro’s bed, wrapped up in his arms as if he belongs there.

The smallest hint of light trickling through the curtains tells him that it’s morning, and the clock on the bedside drawer reads seven AM. 

It's peaceful in Shiro's room, with only the sound of their even breaths and the hum of Shiro’s arm. No one can bother them in the comfortable bubble they've created for themselves. There's no worry or stress, no need to be the leaders that they're supposed to be.

Here, they’re just Keith and Shiro.

Keith takes a moment to bask in the warmth that Shiro emanates, wishing he could close his eyes and drift off again. He forces himself to pull out of his embrace, stilling when Shiro starts moving restlessly. Keith quickly places his pillow in Shiro's arms, watching as he latches onto it before settling down. 

There's a small amount of shame coursing through him as he searches the floor for his clothes, gathering them up so he can get ready for the day in the bathroom. He brushes his teeth with the spare toothbrush he left there and splashes water onto his face afterward, gazing at his reflection and taking in how tired he looks.

It’s unsurprising since Shiro kept him up for most of the night.

He’s trying to flatten the creases out of his jacket on the counter when the door opens, revealing a bleary-eyed Shiro. Keith quickly dims the lights when he catches him squinting, fighting the thought of how adorable Shiro looks as he yawns and rubs his eyes.

“Keith?” Shiro says, voice husky with sleep. “What’re you doin’ over here?”

“Getting ready for the day,” Keith answers. “Sorry if I woke you, I was trying to be quiet.”

“You left me,” Shiro replies, and yeah, there’s a hint of a whine to his voice. The big baby. “Couldn’t go back to sleep without you.”

Keith rolls his eyes, though there’s a fond smile tugging at his lips.

Shiro steps further into the bathroom, eyes half-shut as he stares down at Keith. Despite his growth spurt in those two years with his mother, the height difference between the two of them is probably never going to change. Keith is always going to be shorter and smaller than Shiro, and that's a fact he secretly enjoys.

“Come back to bed with me,” Shiro says in a low voice. 

Keith is suddenly very aware that they’re both still naked.

His eyes drop to Shiro’s chest when he steps closer, a shiver passing through him when he feels a hand brush over his bare hip. Keith tilts his head up as Shiro starts leaning in, turning his face away at the last second and gently shoving him away.

“Morning breath,” he tells him with a wrinkled nose. “Brush your teeth before you kiss me.”

Shiro pouts.

Keith knows that he shouldn’t give in. He should deny Shiro, get dressed—wrinkled clothes be damned—and head out with the intent to busy himself with clean-up duties; but temptation is right in front of him, and Keith is unable to resist taking a bite.

“I’ll wait for you in bed,” he says, fighting his smile when Shiro practically lights up. “Don’t take too long, Shiro. I might just get started without you…”

He laughs when Shiro shoves him out the door.

With his clothes stuck in the bathroom, there’s no way he can leave like he wanted. He resigns himself to another lazy morning in bed and collapses on top of the rumpled sheets, turning onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

The promise of sex is what keeps him there.

It’s strange how one simple act can bring Keith back to Shiro again and again, uncaring of the consequences that may unravel and only seeking release. 

Sometimes, he feels as if he is a dog with Shiro as his master—picked up from the streets and led back home with the assurance of a warm bed, following after him and obeying his every word with the devotion of a saint to his timeless god. 

One look from Shiro and he’s on his knees faster than he can command it. A feral stray turned well-trained with only a few praises and affectionate touches that feed the touch-starved side of himself.

He knows it’s stupid of him to continue what they have, but he can’t help himself, especially when Shiro often kisses him so sweetly, touches him with reverent hands, and holds him with a tenderness he’ll never find elsewhere. It makes it easier to pretend that—

Keith starts when a hand brushes over his thigh, and he’s dragged back to reality as a weight hovers above him. He stares up into Shiro’s concerned face, hoping his hitched breath is unheard when Shiro tenderly brushes a few strands of hair away from his face.

“Are you okay?” Shiro asks.

“I’m fine,” Keith answers automatically. “Lost in thought, sorry.”

“Right…” Shiro replies, and the expression on his face tells Keith that he doesn’t believe him. He’ll most likely pursue the problem to try and make it better as well. It’s what he always does when he thinks that Keith’s walls are back up, ready to knock them down so Keith won’t close himself off again.

To avoid this, Keith quickly flips their positions and presses him down into the mattress. It creaks with the sudden movement, but he pays it no mind as he leans down to start kissing Shiro’s throat, trailing his hands over his chest.

“Eager,” Shiro says with a laugh, limp beneath his touch. “You like this position a lot.”

Keith's not going to admit that he chooses this position to gain control over their situation. He's less vulnerable and open when he's on top, able to hide how much it affects him. It’s harder to do that when he’s beneath Shiro, the dam breaking and releasing everything beneath Shiro’s focused stare—unabashed moans and cries, tears in his eyes when Shiro works him just right. 

Staring into the face of the man he loves is always too much for him.

“Shut up,” Keith grumbles, swallowing his next laugh with a hard kiss. 

Hands squeeze his thighs when he rolls his hips, twin moans muffled by their lips. Their breathing turns harsh the longer they grind against each other, wet cunt against leaking cock, and they’re both shaking with restrained pleasure when Keith finally sinks down on him.

“You feel so good,” Shiro says in a rough voice, hands sliding up to grip Keith’s hips.

They move together: Shiro fucking up into him with hard thrusts that leave him gasping while Keith grinds down against him, causing Shiro's mouth to fall open with breathy moans. His nails drag red lines down his chest, the urge to mark him up and own him simmering beneath his skin.

It’s a Galra thing, he knows.

He runs his tongue over his teeth and sure enough, they’ve grown sharp—as they usually do whenever he’s this worked up with Shiro. Keith can also feel a distinctive shift in his eyes and knows that they’ve  _ ‘gone Galra,’ _ as his friends might say: sclera a dull yellow and pupils turned to slits.

Keith draws Shiro up for a kiss, cupping his face with both hands while an arm wraps around his middle. He nips at his bottom lip and relishes the taste of blood. Shiro pulls away as it starts to get heated, lips all shiny and red. He looks mildly concerned, which causes their pace to slow down a little.

“You can’t get pregnant, right?” he asks.

“You’re really asking me this now?” Keith lets out a breathy laugh, circling his hips so he can hear Shiro’s hitched breath. “How many times have we done this? How many times have you finished inside me? I can’t, okay? So d-don’t—” He chokes on a moan when Shiro picks up speed, probably encouraged by his denial.

“Don’t worry?” Shiro finishes with a hint of a grin on his face. “Alright.”

They finish together, desperate noises muffled by their lips as they exchange clumsy kisses. Sweat covers their bodies, and the stench of sex is heavy in the air. They’re going to have to take separate showers if they want to get anything done today.

Except Shiro pulls out and deftly flips him onto his back, already between Keith's thighs before he can blink. He doesn't say a word as he does down on Keith like a starved man, eyes closed in bliss as his tongue finds its way into Keith's cunt and his metal thumb slips over his clit. The sensitivity from his previous orgasm makes the sensation ten times better, bordering the edge of painful when Shiro keeps going after the second one and adds two fingers.

Both of Keith’s hands reach above him to grip a pillow tightly, sharp nails tearing the fabric as he loses himself to the overwhelming pleasure and the attention that Shiro is eagerly giving him.

(How can he ever give this up?)

After a total of five orgasms (five!), Shiro is lazily licking over his folds while Keith continues to shake and twitch beneath him. He barely even registers when Shiro moves, only noticing when the man is hovering above him—lips and chin shiny with Keith’s slick, eyes dark and assessing as he stares at Keith. He starts to lean down, and Keith prepares himself for a kiss.

Instead of doing that, Shiro collapses on him with a big heaving sigh.

“Shiro!” Keith tries to push him off. No luck. “Hey! I’m not your pillow!”

“Warm like one,” Shiro says against his throat. Keith can hear the grin in his voice. “My favorite one, too. So much better than the ones we use.”

“You know I can kick your ass,” he threatens. “I’ll do it, you know I will, but maybe I’ll show you mercy if you get off me right now so I can go shower.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Shiro says, lifting his head.

“I’ll suffocate you right now,” Keith challenges. “I’ll grab one of your pillows and push it down on your face until you stop squirming. Watch me.”

“Alright,” Shiro replies in an amused voice, as if he knows that Keith would never do such a thing. 

He’s right, of course, but he doesn’t have to be so smug about it.

“You’re lucky I’m too tired to do it,” Keith grumbles, wrapping an arm around him and settling into the sheets. “Go to sleep.”

Giving in to Shiro was the eventual outcome, especially when Shiro is willing to get the extra rest he deserves. Everyone's been busy, working hard with many different things, but it seems like Shiro's been working harder with the Atlas repairs and learning how it works.

Besides, he could never deny the man a thing—sleeping in for an extra hour or two is nothing.

“Thanks,” Shiro murmurs into his collarbone, already sounding half-asleep.

Keith says nothing. He waits for Shiro’s breathing to even out before allowing himself to drift off, the warm weight of Shiro lulling him to a peaceful sleep.

 

☆ ☆

 

Earth slowly heals.

All the Galra work camps have been dismantled, their zaiforge cannons destroyed, and sentries wiped out. The Voltron Lions have spread far and wide to achieve this goal, often bringing the Rebels with them to help out the remaining humans in need. Some choose to go back with them, wanting to lend their aid to the cause while they still can, while others are content with staying in the small communities they’ve begun to form—secure in the fact that Voltron and the Garrison will continue to protect them.

The people’s safety takes priority, and building restoration is just below that. There’s not much to be done with the buildings that were completely obliterated and turned to debris by the Galra, but what they can do is remove all the large pieces to create enough space for plazas.

It’s a temporary solution, a way to deliver supplies to anyone in need as they direct their focus on rebuilding.

Their allies in the Voltron Coalition are a big help when it comes to this, especially the Olkari with their connection to nature and technology. The ones that aren’t helping with the Atlas repairs tag along with the Paladins to do what they can, which allows the humans to get used to the fact that there are aliens other than the Galra out there, and they’re much kinder.

The adults are rightfully wary, but the kids seem to be open to their new visitors once they see that the Paladins trust them.

Kids also seem drawn to Keith for some inexplicable reason, constantly following him around whenever he stops by, always offering him little trinkets they’ve found.

Even though he’s awkward around children, Keith still accepts the things they give him and takes the time to crouch down to their level to answer any of their questions. He doesn't hide the truth from them, remembering how much he hated when adults did that while he was growing up.

That seems to make them like him more, and they often latch onto him with bright grins or wave at him from afar while chirping, “Hi, Keithy!”

Keith always waves back, even when there are two kids dangling off his arm.

“You don’t talk to them like they’re kids,” Shiro says when Keith mentions his strange and sudden popularity. “You talk to them like they’re people.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Keith asks, confused.

All Shiro does is smile in response.

The Paladins are given new jackets as a way to separate themselves from the Garrison, to show the world that they’re more than an institution—they’re the Defenders of the Universe, the Paladins of Voltron. 

Each jacket is a different color, matching the colors of their Paladin armor, and their belt has the Voltron insignia. Instead of the Garrison issue pants, they've chosen to wear their undersuits with the jackets. It'll help when they need to change into their armor faster for a fight.

(After the final jacket fittings, Shiro dragged him off to one of the empty supply closets in the Garrison. Although Keith was just as eager for release as Shiro was, he had been confused and wondered what had Shiro so stressed. This inquiry caused Shiro to look at him oddly before explaining that it was a celebration fuck, one that Keith deserved after all he achieved.

And then they stopped talking, because Shiro went down on him to give him another reward.)

They throw themselves into restoration duties, wanting to show the world that they can rely on Voltron as a protector, ally, and friend. Also, some of the destruction was caused by them during the fight against Sendak. It makes sense to fix what they’ve broken.

Despite being at opposite corners of the world more often than not, they always make a point to come together at the end of the week to crash at their Garrison issued lounge. All they did was talk about where their duties took them, at first, but it soon grew into a weekly movie night.

Keith has to force Shiro to come from time to time, dragging him away from his office and the files he’s been painstakingly crafting on the IGF-Atlas. There are new discoveries on the ship every day, and Shiro’s connection to it allows him to compile much-needed data on it.

“It’s a Paladin movie night,” Shiro tries to protest one night. “I’m no longer a Paladin.”

“Shiro,” Keith replies plainly. “You’ll always be a Paladin. More importantly, you’re our friend, and we want you there.”

The smile Shiro gives him is rather small and shy, like the sun barely peeking out of the clouds but still shining beautifully. Keith’s breath catches in his throat, and he forces himself to look away as his heart inflates to twice its size.

“Now come on,” Keith says after clearing his throat. “We’re gonna watch some old space movie.”

Shiro willingly follows, their hands brushing together as they walk down the halls.

The movie takes place in a galaxy far, far away (Keith's comment of, "That's basically our lives," was shushed by Hunk, Lance, and Pidge). Shiro is sitting beside him, and Kosmo is curled up at his feet. The wolf is munching on stray pieces of popcorn that fall to the floor whenever Pidge tries to throw some into Hunk's mouth.

His blue fur is sticking up more than usual, and Keith is already dreading the bath he’s going to have to give him. All that butter… 

“You doing okay?” Shiro suddenly asks in a whisper, holding out the bowl of popcorn.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Keith replies, declining the snack with a shake of his head. He’s not in the mood for popcorn at this moment. “Why do you ask?”

Shiro shrugs. “You look tired.”

“Well, we’ve been working pretty hard out there, and I’ve had to do a lot of diplomatic talking with Allura. Many people aren’t ready to trust some of our Coalition allies.”

“Is that why you haven’t brought the Blades with you?”

“Partly,” Keith admits. “Even if I wanted them to go out there with me, they’ve been too busy to do it. Kolivan sent out a few Blades to scour Earth for any Galra that might have survived the fight. They don’t want to risk the possibility of Haggar finding out our whereabouts in case one of them try to get in contact with her for revenge.”

“Smart.” Shiro tosses a handful of popcorn into his mouth. A few pieces fall to the floor, quickly devoured by Kosmo. “Maybe you should wear your Blades suit.”

“Why?”

“To show the world that the trustworthy Leader of Voltron has been accepted as a Blade. That should get the rest of them to see that they’re not like the rest of the Galra.”

“I’ll think about it,” Keith says, and they both turn their attention back to the movie when Pidge kicks their side of the couch.

He ends up falling asleep before the movie is over, coming to when someone gently shakes him awake. Embarrassment floods through him, cheeks going hot when he realizes that he fell asleep with his head on Shiro’s shoulder. Keith quickly moves away, rubbing his eyes and faking a yawn. He doesn’t seem too affected by it.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“It’s okay,” Shiro says with an easy smile. “Wanna head back to my room? I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable in an actual bed.”

There’s nothing in his voice that implies he’s looking for something more, but it is what Keith has come to expect whenever Shiro wants them to be alone. Still, the promise of sleep in a warm bed with someone that he’s comfortable with is enough to get Keith to agree.

He’s surprised when nothing happens.

Once they get to the room, Shiro peels off his clothes and drapes them over the couch. Then, he walks over to the drawer and pulls out a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt. The former he puts on himself, while the latter is held out to Keith.

Keith tugs the shirt on after he's out of his clothes, the material stopping just past his ass. He follows Shiro to bed, already feeling sleepy by the time he climbs in with him. Their legs become entangled, breaths mingling with how close they are, and time seems to come to a standstill as they stare into each other's eyes.

He can’t help but think that this is more intimate than the times they’ve had sex.

Shiro suddenly leans forward and brushes their lips together, causing butterflies to erupt in his stomach when he meets his half-lidded gaze with wide eyes. A sleepy smile overtakes Shiro’s face, and Keith gets to watch the way his expression clears with peace as he drifts off.

“What are you doing to me?” Keith whispers.

There’s no answer, of course.

He carefully turns onto his other side so he won’t have to look at Shiro, wanting to sleep without the tight feeling in his chest that he gets whenever he stares for too long.

 

☆ ☆

 

Keith is currently sitting on a couch, his wolf sprawled across his lap like he’s taken to do whenever they have downtime. He’s scratching behind the wolf’s ears, watching in amusement as his tongue lolls out of his mouth with bliss and his leg starts kicking.

It’s funny how there are times when he’s one hundred percent wolf, and other times when he’s one hundred percent dog.

Or maybe he’s just weird.

“Do you even like ‘Kosmo’ as a name?” Keith asks the wolf, flattening his ears with a stroke of a hand. “I know the others picked it for you, but you still have the choice of keeping it or not.”

The wolf huffs softly and nods.

“Alright,” Keith says with a sigh, scratching behind his ears. “I guess I’ll call you Kosmo now.”

Kosmo’s bright yellow eyes light up with happiness. He tilts his head back, tongue darting out to lick over Keith’s chin. When Keith laughs, he can tell that Kosmo looks pleased with himself; it's not something he reads on the wolf's face, it's something that he knows.

The door suddenly slides open, an exasperated sigh coming from the doorway as someone enters the room. Keith tips his head all the way back and sees an upside-down James Griffin, dressed his flight uniform. He must have just come back from training.

“Just because I let you in my room once doesn’t mean you’re free to come here all the time,” James says, peeling his jacket off and hanging it on one of the hooks sticking out of the wall. “I’ve changed my code twice since your last visit.”

Kosmo perks up at the sound of his voice, tail wagging as if he were a joyful little puppy rather than a very large cosmic wolf. He stays on Keith’s lap when he sits up, knowing that it’s more rewarding to be patient than to go barreling over to James’s side for attention.

It took a while for that particular lesson to sink in.

“Then I must have imagined your message containing the new code,” Keith replies, amused. “Come say hello to your best friend, he’s been waiting for you.”

Kosmo is practically vibrating with excitement.

“That mutt isn’t my best friend,” James retorts as he plops down on the other side of the couch. He says this like Keith can’t see him sneaking a treat to Kosmo when the wolf shuffles over onto his lap.

“He  _ technically _ isn’t a mutt,” Keith points out, lips twitching when James aims a kick at him and misses.

Silence floods through the room, a peaceful kind that makes him sink into the cushions with a much more clear head. The complex emotions he’s been feeling as of late lighten up a little, making his chest feel less tight.

Coming here is always welcome escape.

“How come you like to hide out here?” James asks after a while, continuing once Keith looks over at him. “And don’t say that you’re not hiding. I might not know you as well as your friends do, but I can tell when people are trying to avoid something.” He pauses, eyes sharp. “Or, maybe, someone?”

Keith says nothing. He supposes that answers his question.

“Don’t you have a place with your friends?” James continues unperturbed. “They should be able to help you out with your problem better than I can, right?”

_ They’re better company than me, _ is what Keith hears.

“I like it here,” Keith says honestly. “You don’t push for answers, and you never judge me for what I say.”

“I kinda do.”

“You mean it in a friendly way, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“That’s why I like it.” Keith offers the smallest smile. “You’re also good company.”

James naturally looks surprised at the sentiment. There’s even a hint of pink to his cheeks—embarrassment, maybe. “Oh?” he says.

“Yeah,” Keith says, smirking now. “Kosmo seems to like you.”

“Kosmo,” James repeats knowingly. “Right. Well, tell Kosmo that I like him too. I enjoy his company, too.”

“I’m sure he appreciates that.” 

Silence, again. 

They're still learning how to talk to each other while navigating this new friendship between them. Keith knows that they both appreciate the quiet that often surrounds them, and he's grateful that it's usually never the awkward kind.

“So,” James says. “How long do you plan on staying?”

“Couple of hours,” he answers, making himself comfortable on the couch. Kosmo climbs on without being told, curling up on Keith’s lap and resting his head against Keith’s stomach. “Is that okay?”

“It’s fine,” James replies with a shrug. He reaches out to snatch a small holopad off the coffee table, holding his thumb against the center of it to activate it. “Wanna watch something? I have a big file full of old cartoons.”

Keith ends up staying there longer than he expected, watching things he’s never seen before and effectively taking his mind off the one person that refuses to leave it. 

 

☆ ☆

 

With how busy their lives are, Keith and Shiro barely have time for each other.

Whenever they are able to meet up, it’s usually late at night in either of their rooms. After a long day of work, they’re both too tired to do anything beyond a handjob and some fingerfucking. Sometimes, they end up doing nothing at all and fall into bed together—too exhausted to even try.

Stress begins to pile up with no way to release it.

It starts with clipped responses, which builds into passive-aggressive remarks, and soon erupts into arguments over nothing, with obvious aggravation on both ends.

When it finally becomes too much for them, they’re tearing off each other’s clothes while exchanging biting kisses. They both fight for control: Shiro pressing Keith against the wall while he rocks against him, Keith pinning Shiro down on the couch while he jerks him off, Shiro forcing Keith’s face down into the floor while his fingers slip over his clit, Keith fighting him on the bed while Shiro tries to keep him in place. 

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

He gives in when Shiro has a strong arm wrapped around his middle, Keith’s back to his chest. They're both breathing hard, and Shiro is soon pressing inside with little resistance. Keith gasps when a wave of pleasure-pain rushes through him, tipping his head back with a low groan.

They move in tandem, the only sound being the wet smack of their hips and the strained noises they try to hide.

Shiro keeps mouthing over his shoulders, and the drag of teeth over his skin makes Keith jerk against him with a faint whimper. Shiro’s metal palm stays spread across his abdomen, fingers barely brushing his nub, while his other hand slides up to gently squeeze his neck.

His grip gets tighter as they become more and more desperate, falling out of rhythm and resorting to almost frenzied grinding to reach their peaks. Keith's mouth drops open with a wheeze, eyes rolling back from the lack of air. He quietly whimpers and digs his nails into Shiro's wrist as he gets closer to the edge.

He finally tips over with a faint cry when Shiro presses down on his clit with his thumb. Stars burst in his vision as he shakes apart, chest heaving for much-needed air when Shiro finally releases his throat.

Keith is still trembling when Shiro grips his hips and fucks up into him at a faster pace, taking advantage of his lax post-orgasm body to seek his own release.

“Come on,” Keith rasps out, turning his head to brush their lips together and clenching around him. 

Shiro curses in response, groaning into their chaste kiss when he finally releases inside his cunt. Keith shudders at the surge of warmth that fills him and idly rolls his hips, both men gasping with oversensitivity. 

“Fuck,” he says, with feeling.

“Yeah,” Shiro says, with equal feeling.

He doesn’t stop moving, not even when Shiro squeezes his hips in warning or when his eyes start to burn with overwhelmed tears. The  _ squelch _ of his cunt makes the tips of his ears burn, cum trickling out of him with every movement, and Shiro’s broken moan only encourages him to keep going.

“R-Really?” Shiro asks with a huff.

“You’re not complaining,” Keith shoots back, fighting his victorious grin when he feels Shiro twitch.

The lack of sex has made him really pent up, enough to make him want to fuck again and again until the hunger inside of him is sated. The gnawing emptiness is what pushes him to grind against Shiro, flames licking at his bones and desire curling in his gut.

He’s sure that Shiro feels the same way because he matches Keith’s movements with his own.

Once Shiro’s cock hardens for the second time, he pulls out of Keith (ignoring Keith’s dismayed cry) and easily manhandles him to a different position: on his back, with Shiro hovering over him as he sinks back inside.

Keith expects it to be hard and fast like it normally is, but he’s proven wrong when Shiro meets his gaze and begins to move.

It's slower this time, their bodies moving in tandem while Shiro presses their foreheads together. Keith's quiet gasps and moans end up muffled by Shiro's lips, the kiss soft and sweet. It feels much more intense than the previous fuck.

Even when Keith begs for him to go faster, all Shiro does is hold him still and continue to fuck him at a glacial pace.

It feels good, yeah, but the fact that Shiro is staring down at him and is seeing him spread open and vulnerable is almost too much for Keith. His beating heart is exposed, and it's singing Shiro's name, unable to be silenced no matter what he does.

He needs —

“Shiro,” Keith says pleadingly, a sob threatening to spill out as he claws at his back. “Shiro, please…”

“What do you need?” Shiro asks in a low voice, looking completely composed as he continues to grind into Keith deeply. If it weren’t for the sweat dripping down his face or the strain to his jaw, Keith might think that he isn’t as affected. “Tell me.”

_ You. _

“I-I need—I need to—” 

That’s all he can manage, mindless over the slow-building pleasure and heat.

His vision blurs with unshed tears when Shiro starts to pull out, making a noise of protest and digging his nails into Shiro's back. He presses his heel against his ass to try and bring him back, only to cry out when Shiro suddenly snaps his hips sharply and sinks in deeper.

Shiro shushes him soothingly, repeating this action again and again.

All Keith can do is cling to him, eyes squeezed shut when he starts to feel dizzy from the sensation. His thighs are trembling, and broken noises are torn out of him as their bodies move together at a faster pace.

He opens his mouth to make another plea, but a whine spills out instead. Shiro’s rubbing his clit with his metal thumb, pressing down on it whenever he thrusts in. His body jerks at the sudden touch and he pulses around Shiro, unable to tip over the edge.

“Shiro,” he gasps desperately.

“Look at me,” Shiro says roughly.

His eyes fly open to obey, meeting his gaze while the heat sinks into his bones. Keith’s vision begins to blur again, and he doesn’t even have the sense to feel embarrassed about the fact that Shiro is seeing him  _ cry. _

“ _ Come, _ ” Shiro commands.

Electricity races under his skin, toes curling and back arching when his orgasm hits him  _ hard. _ His whole body shakes with it, mouth falling open with a broken cry when Shiro keeps jerking his clit while pounding into him. Keith’s mind whites out with overstimulation, losing himself to the endless pleasure.

Awareness trickles in when he feels Shiro pulling out, a weak moan leaving him as sparks travel up his spine when he rubs up against Keith’s sensitive walls.

"Sorry," Shiro whispers. "I'll clean you up, okay? Just lie there and relax."

“Way ahead of you,” Keith slurs out, keeping his eyes closed. His head is still hazy, stuck in that post-orgasm state that leaves him floaty and boneless.

The back-to-back orgasms probably add to that effect.

Eventually, there’s the feel of something soft and damp rubbing over his skin, gentle wherever it travels. A tired laugh leaves his mouth when it brushes over one of his ticklish spots, and the amused chuckle he receives in response sinks into him and spreads warmth to his heart.

“Think you can get up long enough to let me change the sheets?” Shiro asks.

Keith shakes his head. He’s too comfy and warm, how can he leave?

“Come on, Keith.” Fingers gently tug on a few locks of his hair. “Don’t you want to sleep on fresh sheets?”

“Ugh,” Keith says, opening one eye to look at him. “You win this round, Shirogane.”

He allows Shiro to pull him up with minimal grumbling, though that comes out louder while Shiro is leading him over to the couch after his knees nearly buckled beneath him. Keith weakly kicks out at him when Shiro has the gall to look smug about it.

“Shut up,” he says.

“I never said anything,” Shiro replies, and the fucker is actually smirking.

Keith lobs a cushion at the back of Shiro's head when he walks away.

Shiro practically carries him to the shower after he changes the sheets, claiming that he wants to be clean while lying on equally clean sheets. Keith would believe this if Shiro didn't immediately press him against the cold tile wall and slide a hand between his thighs to finger him.

“You’re insatiable,” Keith gasps after he comes, chest heaving as he rests his hot cheek against Shiro’s wet chest while he washes Keith’s hair.

Shiro hums in response.

The lack of piled-up stress is a huge relief when he goes back to his duties the next day. There's no weight on his shoulders, and he's no longer irritated with every little thing. He can tell that Shiro is feeling the same way, based on his calm demeanor and the occasional smile he'll flash at the other cadets.

Even though they tend to be extremely busy, they still make time for each other at least twice a week. Keith has to squash down the fluttery feeling he gets in his stomach whenever Shiro greets him with a bright smile and an eager kiss whenever they meet in his room. It doesn’t mean anything.

It’s just sex, after all.

 

☆ ☆

 

Kosmo starts exhibiting strange behavior about a month after things seem to settle down.

He always wants to stay by Keith’s side and starts growling at anyone that gets to close to Keith. Kosmo even snapped his teeth at the few people that tried to grab his arm or tap on his shoulder for his attention, which forced Keith to apologize and then scold the wolf in private. Kosmo didn’t even look sorry over it.

His friends are safe from this, but Kosmo keeps his wary eyes trained on them whenever they touch him.

Now, when they have movie nights with the other Paladins, Kosmo takes up the spaces beside Keith by sprawling across his lap and pressing close to his stomach. There have been times where he fits his head underneath Keith’s shirt and ends up staying there for the rest of the night.

Kosmo has grown to like the other Paladins after spending plenty of time with them, drifting through space while they made their way home, but he’s been ignoring them in favor of focusing on Keith.

It’s very weird.

He even tags along whenever Keith is out doing his job: retrieval and clean-up. All it means is that he goes from building to building, scavenging through them for supplies and tech before clearing out whatever debris may be inside.

_ At least he’s a helpful addition, _ Keith thinks as he clears all the slabs of wood that are blocking the entrance of the building with a swing of his sword. Kosmo bounds ahead of him, scanning the area with attentive eyes before looking back at Keith and nodding once.

All clear.

Keith shines a light over all the broken down shelves to see if there's anything salvageable. There are a few boxes of what looks like cold medicines and bottles of painkillers that rattle when he curiously snatches one up for inspection.

Based on this, he guesses that this place used to be a pharmacy.

Keith sets the pills down to go outside, returning with two bins to sort whatever he finds. The one on the left is used to hold anything sealed while the one on the right is for items that are open or broken, to be tossed out on a later date.

Kosmo helps him diligently for a while, eventually trotting off to explore the rest of the store on his own. There are times when Keith will spy a flash of blue light that indicates the wolf's teleportation abilities. He figures there are too many pieces of debris for Kosmo to get around on foot.

After he's finished sorting through the items at the front of the store, Keith walks around in search of more salvageable supplies. He clears out debris along the way with his sword, slicing through the large pieces and tossing the smaller ones into a pile to clear out afterward.

There's a flash of blue light by his side when he's slowly walking down one of the aisles, dragging his attention to Kosmo. The wolf is holding a box between his teeth, staring up at him expectantly.

“You can put it in the bin over there,” Keith directs, pointing at the left. He frowns when Kosmo shakes his head. “What? Do you want me to do it?”

Kosmo shakes his head again, dropping the box at his feet and sitting down in front of it. He nudges it closer to Keith with the smallest whine.

“Alright,” Keith says with a sigh. He hopes this isn’t a game that the wolf wants to play. They have no time for that today. “Let’s see what you got.”

He crouches down to pick it up, flipping it to read the description of the item. The box itself is pink, with faded yellow lettering that spells out:

_ ‘HOME PREGNANCY TEST! Results after 5 minutes!’ _

“I guess this can go into the left bin,” Keith mutters to himself, pushing himself up so he can go over and toss it in. “I doubt anyone needs it, though. The Garrison's medical center can easily give results."

Kosmo appears in front of him and stops him in his tracks, sitting down and whining again. He looks a bit distressed, so Keith drops down to the floor and sets the box aside so he can pet him with both hands. As he does this, he discreetly checks him over for any injuries he may have obtained. Maybe he got cut while navigating the debris.

“What’s wrong?” he asks worriedly, finding no injury on the wolf.

The wolf shakes him off and ducks his head to slide the box closer with his snout, sitting back up and tapping Keith's knee with his paw. He repeats this action two more times before finally stilling, staring at him with pleading eyes.

“It’s… for me?” Keith asks, bewildered.

Kosmo nods.

“I don’t need it, though,” he tells him in a faraway voice. “I’m not…”

Keith thinks about the recurring nausea he’s been feeling these past few days, the dizziness that always occurred after exiting the Lion after a day of training—as if he depleted all his energy in a big fight instead of practicing flight formations. He’s also been having strange food cravings throughout the days and has had a sudden aversion to most Earth-based foods.

_ Which are all symptoms of…  _

“Kosmo,” he says faintly. “Can you get me a couple more tests? Different brands, please.”

Kosmo woofs and disappears in a flash of blue light.

 

☆ ☆

 

Keith stares at the row of boxes for a long time.

He's currently sitting on the floor of his bathroom, dressed in his comfort clothes (a pair of Hunk's sweats and one of Allura's hoodies). After completing his duties for the day, Keith had rushed to his room and quickly changed before downing two water bottles. He then locked himself in the bathroom fully prepared to take the pregnancy tests.

The digital clock tells him that it's been an hour and forty-five minutes since he entered the bathroom. He has yet worked up the courage to do it.

Kosmo is lying down beside him, silently supporting him as he always does. Keith casts a glance over at him and lifts a hand to scratch behind his ears. The wolf gently butts his head against his palm and gives an encouraging rumble. Keith sighs and stops petting Kosmo so he can scoop up the stupid boxes as he rises. He aligns them on the edge of the sink and takes a deep breath.

“Can you wait outside?” he asks the wolf, smiling weakly when he nods and teleports out of the bathroom.

Keith turns his attention to the boxes, opening them up one by one and setting the sticks down on top. He nervously drums his fingers along the counter and shifts in place, sucking air in through his teeth and releasing a breath.

He’s going to do this.

Peeing on five different pregnancy tests is as glamorous as it sounds, but it’s safe to say that he’s mastered the art of timing his piss streams perfectly—hold, wait, release for ten seconds onto the stick, and repeat the cycle with an untouched one.

The world has made so many advancements in technology over the years, and yet Keith doesn’t understand why there isn’t a pregnancy test out there that doesn’t require you to pee directly on the stick. 

_ Would it have worked if I pissed in a cup and let them absorb my ‘pregnant’ or ‘not pregnant’ juices? _ Keith wonders after he’s done, carefully laying them out on top of the boxes they came in before washing his hands.  _ Or would that have fucked up my results? It would all be the same, right? _

He wishes he tried it.

All of the pregnancy tests are supposed to give him the results after five minutes, so Keith paces in the bathroom while he waits. His heart is pounding and his hands have gotten clammy, and he keeps glancing over at the digital clock on the wall as if that will make time pass faster.

Keith could have gotten faster results from the Garrison medical center, but he’d rather keep it to himself. He can deal with it privately, and there’s less chance of the news spreading if it turns out positive.

When it’s finally time for him to check, Keith slowly, very slowly—so slow he makes all snails look as fast as the Red Lion—walks to the sink and peers down at the tests.

Two of them show pink plus signs that seem brighter than the actual stick itself while the other three have the word PREGNANT written across their tiny, grainy screens in bold letters.

Keith stares at the tests in disbelief and blinks several times, hoping that his mind is playing tricks on him. He even picks one up and gives it a shake as if it were a damn Etch-A-Sketch and he was trying to erase an old drawing so he could start a new one.

The results stay the same.

_ ‘Congratulations!’ _ A disembodied voice that sounds strangely like Bob says in his head. Keith really hopes that his brain is just using it as a placeholder and it’s not actually the dick talking to him.  _ ‘A baby is growing inside you!’ _

He barely makes it to the toilet in time to throw up his lunch.

 

☆ ☆

 

The reality of being pregnant hits him hours later, mouth tasting of mint as he remains seated on the bathroom floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. 

Even with the tests lined up on the floor in front of him, he's still struggling to wrap his head around it. 

He’s been on testosterone for as long as he can remember, and going to space introduced him to a more advanced (alien, ha) version. Keith knows that it doesn’t make him one hundred percent sterile, but he would think that it would get him close.

_ Or maybe Shiro’s sperm is just really, really potent, _ Keith thinks jokingly. A strained laugh leaves him when he realizes that it could be true.

Kosmo pops in when he's shoving the tests and their boxes under a mountain of toilet paper in his trash can, hiding the evidence until he can make a trip to the dumpster. The wolf's tongue lolls out when Keith looks over, tail wagging as he moves in to lick Keith's face before sitting down in front of him.

“I’m pregnant,” Keith says out loud, testing the words out. 

His wolf companion bobs his head as if agreeing, and Keith realizes that he’s somehow known this whole time. He’s the one who brought him the pregnancy tests and now that Keith thinks about it, has been conveniently placing himself around Keith’s middle as if to protect it.

“Oh,” he breathes, resting a hand on his stomach. There’s no tell-tale bump, no distinction that there’s a life growing inside him, but if Keith concentrates enough, he swears he can feel the tiniest flutter inside him.

Kosmo moves closer with the smallest whine, licking his cheeks and looking at him with concern.

His vision blurs and distorts the image of the wolf. Kosmo licks his face again—no, he’s trying to clean up the steady stream of tears. The effort to make him feel better makes a chuckle burst out of Keith, though it sounds more like a sob than anything.

“Sorry,” he whispers, gently scratching Kosmo’s neck. “I’ll be fine in a bit.”

The wolf is a steady and stable presence while Keith’s emotions get the best of him, not moving when Keith wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his fur. He releases a few comforting rumbles that give Keith a sense of safety, easing the fear that’s overtaken his heart.

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that, silently crying against his wolf, but eventually, he pulls himself away to wipe at his face and gain a semblance of control. Kosmo remains docile, gazing at him with intelligent eyes.

Keith bites his lip and contemplates his situation.

“I can’t have a baby,” he says hoarsely. He starts combing through Kosmo's fur with his fingers to give himself something to focus on while he works through this. “There’s too much to do right now. I can’t stop to have one.”

Kosmo snuffles.

"Haggar is still out there. What if she sends another beast or tries to destroy Earth herself? I can't fight when I'm pregnant. It can be dangerous for the..." He trails off and shakes his head. "I doubt Black would let me pilot her. She would pull up her particle barrier faster than I can run."

Kosmo licks his nose.

“I shouldn’t have this baby,” Keith declares, though his voice carries the smallest waver. “The universe needs the Leader of Voltron, and said Leader needs to be ready to protect them at any moment.”

Kosmo shifts closer, resting his head on Keith’s chest.

“The universe needs me,” he mutters in resignation. “I can’t distract myself with a _ child. _ ”

Kosmo whines.

"But I want it," Keith confesses in a whisper, a secret that cannot be heard by others. He shuts his eyes and speaks in a stronger voice, finally voicing the truth that lives in his heart—the one that yearns for a family, "I want this baby."

Kosmo lowers himself to nuzzle Keith’s stomach.

“I shouldn’t,” he repeats, wrapping his arms around the wolf and squeezing. “But I want to.”

The wolf is a welcome comfort, but Keith knows that he can’t get the advice he desperately needs right now. He should talk to someone who can understand the situation he’s in, someone who knows how to make a hard decision in spite of what they truly want.

Keith squeezes Kosmo tighter when he remembers that he already knows someone who fits that description.

 

☆ ☆

 

It takes him a few days to work up the courage to go to his mother.

His mother had promised that she would always be there for him no matter what troubles he's going through, which allowed him to open up and ask for help or advice whenever he needed. When they were on the back of that space whale, it was easy for him to approach her with all sorts of problems. She was always patient with him, a calming presence by his side as they achieved a solution together.

Except he’s never been pregnant  _ and _ terrified before so this might be a whole new experience for the both of them.

What’s left of the Blade of Marmora is currently residing in a section of the Garrison that remains untouched due to old technology, which keeps that part of the building dimly lit and almost uncomfortably warm.

The humans view these features as flaws, unable to fix it despite their best efforts. The Blades, on the other hand, don’t see it as broken—the atmosphere is familiar to them, the only shred of comfort they’ve had since losing all their bases that also gives them a sense of home.

Two Blades pass by and nod at him in greeting, to which Keith returns with a nod of his own. He keeps walking until he reaches the door at the end of the hall, which contains the room that Kolivan and Krolia have transformed into their own hub.

Krolia is the only one in there, surrounded by a warm glow of purple from the monitors. She's standing in front of the largest one that's displaying a map of the Earth. It has tiny blips of purple scattered across it, tracking all the Blades that have been sent out.

Krolia glances over at him and smiles warmly. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Keith says back, his fear and nerves making a return. The urge to vomit is also strong. “Uh, are you busy?”

“No,” she answers, moving away from the screen to hop onto the large table in the center of the room. She points at a rolling chair in front of her with a foot. “Come on and sit, I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Keith sits in the chair and idly spins it using his feet, moving in slow circles while his mother watches on. The air is a bit tense, but that might only be in Keith’s head. Eventually, he comes to a stop in front of her and sighs, preparing himself for the upcoming conversation.

“Mom?” he starts haltingly. “Can I talk to you about something?”

Concern enters Krolia’s eyes. “Of course.”

Now that he's here, Keith doesn't even know how to continue. His mouth opens and closes uselessly, chest tight with anxiety. His digs his nails into his palm when the expectant silence stretches on and seems to close in on him, swallowing around his dry throat.

_ Just get on with it, _ he tells himself.  _ Be quick. Like ripping off a band-aid. _

He takes a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

“Ah,” Krolia says with a pleased smile. “You finally figured it out.”

Keith frowns and stares back at her in bewilderment. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew. I could smell it on you,” Krolia answers plainly. “Us Galra have a keen sense of smell when it comes to certain things. It doesn't help much in battle when we're surrounded by too many different scents to pick one out of the bunch, but it can come in handy outside of it."

“Does that mean Kolivan knows?” Keith asks, horrified.

“Why do you think he’s been acting more affectionate than usual?”

Keith thinks back on all of his recent interactions with Kolivan—gentle grips on his shoulders from the Marmora leader, a large hand on the middle of his back as he's led through their temporary base, and even claws gently running through his hair. He accepts her point with a half-hearted shrug, stilling when he realizes that some of the other members have been treating him the same way.

“The other Blades know too,” Keith says. “Don’t they.”

Krolia’s smile is answer enough. 

He tips his head back against the chair with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling and tracing the edges of the stained shapes with his eyes. It’s easier to confess his fears when he’s not looking at her. “I don’t know what to do.”

“And you need help with that,” Krolia guesses, continuing when Keith nods, “I’m sorry to say this, but that’s something you have to figure out on your own. I can’t make your decisions for you.”

“I know, I know,” Keith says, crossing his arms. “But can’t you give me a little nudge in the right direction?”

“There is no right or wrong choice to this,” she says firmly. “Whatever you choose is going to be right, because that’s the decision that  _ you _ made.”

Keith slumps, defeated. “Thanks anyway, I guess…”

“Maybe this will help you along.” She squeezes his shoulder. “What do you want?”

"What do I want?" Keith repeats incredulously. "What I want doesn't matter. We have more important things going on right now. Haggar is still out there, plotting out her next move, and we haven't prepared yet! What are we going to do if she—”

“Keith,” Krolia says with a raised hand, which forces his mouth to shut with an audible  _ click. _ “What do  _ you _ want?”

He says nothing for a while, staring into her non-judgemental eyes while the answer bubbles beneath his skin. The feeling only continues to grow until Keith finally licks over his dry lips and whispers, as if it were a shameful secret rather than the truth, “I want to have this baby.”

A weight lifts off his shoulders now that the confession is out there. Although he feels guilty for wanting this, he's glad that he can talk it over to someone other than Kosmo.

“Then do it,” Krolia says. “Have this baby.”

“But what about Haggar?” Keith presses. “What if Voltron is needed? I can’t be selfish…”

“Is wanting to be happy something you consider selfish?” Krolia counters in a gentle voice. “Was I selfish for having you?"

He cocks his head to the side, confused.

"Happiness is hard to find in the midst of war," she explains. "You think you're not allowed it because you need to fight. You think you don't deserve it after everything that's happened, and you might even think that it'll hold you back from doing what's right. None of this is true." She smiles. "Happiness gives you purpose, and it gives you the strength to achieve victory. It gives you the will to fight to protect your happiness, even if you have to do things you don't want to do."

Keith thinks about how she had to leave him behind, how resigned she was at the realization, how sad she was when she kissed him goodbye. She didn’t want to leave him behind, he knows, but she had to make the decision to protect him from the Galra that would surely come back to Earth.

She did it out of love, the kind that never wavered even when they were galaxies apart.

Keith doesn't even have to think about if he'd do the same. He can feel the answer embedded in his bones—a strong protectiveness directed towards the life growing inside him, along with an all-consuming love that wraps around his very being and steals the breath out of his lungs.

His hand finds its way beneath his shirt, curling it over his flat stomach and stroking a thumb over it.

_ Is this how my mother felt?  _ Keith wonders.

“I have many regrets,” Krolia says. “My greatest one was leaving you behind.” She lets out a breath and glances over at him, a faint smile stretched across her face. “But even though I was stuck here, knowing the Galra might find the Blue Lion as I had—having you was not one of them.”

She drops down into the seat next to Keith and wraps her arms around him. Keith sinks into the embrace with ease and buries his face in her shoulder to hide his misty eyes, releasing a shuddering breath when she gently strokes through his long hair with clawed fingers.

Keith and Krolia meet each other for a much-needed embrace, parent and child overwhelmed with the love that they feel for the other. He buries his face in her shoulder to hide his misty eyes, releasing a shuddering breath when she gently strokes through his long hair with clawed fingers.

How many times has he wished for this? The loving touch of a mother that he always craved but could never have, a comfort he could only make up in dreams since there was never anyone around to give him that.

It’s different to what he imagined as a child because he never thought his mother would be an alien, but now that he has it? He wouldn’t change a thing.

“I’m going to have this baby,” he tells her after a while, still nestled in her arms. 

“Okay,” Krolia says, and Keith can hear the smile in her voice. “Then I’m going to ask Kolivan to be in charge of the Blades full-time while I’m helping you through this.”

"Wait, what?" Keith pulls away, staring at her in shock. "You can't do that! The Blades need you as a leader! There's so much to be done, mom. Isn't the mission supposed to be more important?"

“That’s something Kolivan would say,” Krolia replies. “But to me, the mission isn’t as important as you.”

Something warm unfurls in his chest, spreading like flower petals reaching for the sun. His smile is nothing short of pleased, and an age-old ache becomes soothed by her words—more proof that she loves him, has always loved him, and will never stop loving him no matter what happens.

They meet for another hug.

“I want to do this,” she says, nuzzling the top of his head. “I only had a short time with you before, and I missed out on all those years where you needed love and care. Now, I have the chance to do exactly that.” She squeezes him tighter. “Let me be there for you, Keith.”

All Keith can do is squeeze her tightly and nod.

"It's going to be okay," Krolia whispers into his hair, and then Keith feels her kiss the side of his head. “We’ll get through this together. As a family.”

Keith believes her.

 

☆ ☆

 

Now that Keith has decided to keep the baby, Kosmo’s protectiveness seems to have reached a new level.

Whenever Hunk fixes them a snack, Kosmo always sniffs it and has a taste before allowing Keith to eat it. He now has no qualms about attacking his friends whenever they touch him and growls at the other pilots and officers whenever they're near until they back off. Sometimes, he’ll even outright ignore them in favor of focusing his full attention on Keith.

The only person he seems to tolerate is James.

It’s still a bit strange to be friends with him, especially after the way they treated each other in school and the early days at the Garrison, but they apologized to each other when Keith came to him the day after his drunken night with Shiro.

Forgiveness was easy to give now that they’ve both grown up.

Keith spends most of his free time with James now, stopping by his room and staying for the night or taking long walks with him around the Garrison whenever he needs to get away from the world. He does enjoy his company, but the visits also serve as an excuse to avoid Shiro as much as possible.

He can’t exactly face him when their child is growing in him.

James seems to understand that something is wrong but never pushes for answers. He has become a steady support system that Keith has come to appreciate even more since the discovery of his pregnancy. It causes Keith to spend more time with him, accidentally neglecting the other Paladins in the process.

It all comes to a head when he’s walking to the hangar with James, eager to see the interior of his ship. Before they reach the doors, a shrill and indignant voice cries, “There you are!”

“Oh boy,” Keith says with a sigh, stopping in his tracks and slowly turning around.

Lance comes stomping up to them while Hunk, Pidge, and Allura trail behind him at a sedate pace. He glares at James with a fire in his eyes and furrowed brows.

“You!” he spits out, pointing a finger at James. “You’re the one who's been stealing Keith from us!”

“Um,” James says eloquently. “What.”

“I said what I said!” Lance crosses his arms, only relaxing after Allura places a hand on his shoulder. "You've been stealing him, making him spend all his time with you. We were friends with him first! We should get more time with him! Right, guys?"

"Well,  _ I  _ said we should let Keith do whatever he wants," Hunk says with a shrug, smiling at him. Keith smiles back. "Yeah, I miss him, but Keith is his own man. He can make his decisions without us."

"I agree," Pidge says next, and then she squints at James. "You should know that I've got my eyes on you. Virtual eyes, too."

Keith can't help but smile, privately pleased over the idea of his friends missing him because he hasn't spent as much time with them. He's also in disbelief that they're protective of him, too; that's something he constantly feels for them, and he never expected to have it returned. Keith rubs at his warm cheeks and looks away for a moment, a bit overwhelmed by the concept.

He never thought he would reach this level of friendship with anyone.

“Can’t we just steal him back?” Allura asks thoughtfully.

“What a fantastic idea, Allura!” Lance says cheerfully, and then Keith is suddenly being dragged away from James. “Come on, buddy! It’s time for a hangout with your best friends.”

"Bye, James," Keith manages to call out before he's out of earshot. "Send Kosmo to me when he wakes up from his nap."

James nods in response, looking so bemused as he remains standing there.

None of the officers they pass give them a second glance as they make their way through the Garrison, heading for the Paladin lounge. Keith tears himself out of Lance's grasp halfway through their trip, allowing Lance to sling an arm across his shoulders the rest of the way there. Pidge wraps an arm around his waist, and the two of them make a game out of trying to step on the same tiles with the same foot.

They trip a couple of times, laughing as they bring Lance down with them.

When they arrive at the lounge, Keith zeros in on one of the more comfortable corner seats that everyone often fights over and hurries to claim it for himself. He sits on it with a winning grin as the others huff. 

Pidge sits on the couch to the right of him while Allura and Lance drag a couple of chairs over to sit across him, and Hunk walks past them to their small kitchen. He returns with a plate that he sets down on the coffee table in front of Keith before sitting down next to Pidge.

It's full of chocolate chip cookies, and the smell that wafts off them makes Keith’s mouth water.

“I made them last night,” Hunk says, pushing the plate closer to Keith. “Have some! Please! My taste testers here tell me that they're delicious.”

“They really are,” Pidge interjects with a nod. “ _ Heavenly _ would be a better word to describe them. I'd have more, but we accidentally ate his first batch so now we're banned from this one.”

“So worth it,” Lance says dreamily.

“Is that why you brought me here?” Keith asks as he picks one off the plate. “To eat these? I could have done that when you first found me.”

“No, uh. We have another reason.” Hunk says, twiddling his thumbs. “But I would still appreciate any feedback you might have.”

Keith bites into the cookie and forces down his groan of appreciation. He hasn’t had anything chocolate in what feels like forever, and Hunk has just given him a treat that makes it coat his tongue in the best way. He quickly finishes it off and grabs another while the sweetness lingers.

“S’good,” he tells Hunk around a mouthful of cookie. “Really good. I’d eat these for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“As much as that makes me happy to hear, I don’t think that would be very healthy for you. Especially with the—” 

“Oh, Hunk!” Pidge cuts in with a loud, almost nervous laugh. She also slaps a hand over his mouth. “And you were so worried about Keith not liking the cookies!"

Keith narrows his eyes and sets his half-eaten cookie down. “What’s going on?” he asks warily.

He catches the anxious looks that the four share with each other, and it causes dread to pool in his stomach. Keith can’t help the inexplicable feeling that  _ they know. _

“I know this is going to sound invasive,” Hunk starts in a trembling voice after Pidge removes her hand. He doesn’t look at Keith. “But we were looking through your trash—”

Keith’s brows furrow. “Why were you looking through my trash?”

Lance speaks up, “I wanted to take a shower in your bathroom—you have the most soothing shower head options, by the way—and I happened to look in your trash can, and I saw, uh…”

Pidge sighs loudly and rolls her eyes, the only one unafraid to meet Keith’s gaze. “He found a few pregnancy tests,” she says bluntly. “Then he called the rest of us into your bathroom, freaking out about the results.” Her voice grows softer, kinder, “Keith, are you…?”

He swallows and looks away, deflating. “Yeah.”

“Is Shiro the—”

“Yeah,” Keith says again, and then frowns. “How did you know?”

“You weren’t exactly subtle,” Pidge says wryly.

“Honestly, I’m not sure why you thought you could hide it,” Allura comments.

“We all knew once it started,” Hunk adds. “We just never mentioned it because we were all glad you two finally stopped fighting.”

“You two were pretty obvious,” Lance says, jabbing a thumb at himself. “Even to me.”

“Thanks for not telling us that you knew,” Keith says sarcastically, crossing his arms and slumping in his seat. “Guess my time as a Marmora agent was pretty worthless. I can’t even manage to be discrete about the fact that I’m fucking my best friend.”

“There’s no need for your crude language, mister.” Lance wags a finger. “You’ve got a baby on board now! If you want it to be as polite as the rest of us, then you’ll have to stop cursing up the storm.”

Keith ignores him, and so does everyone else.

"We were all wondering something else," Allura says over the sound of Lance's sputtering at the lack of attention. “First, you must know that there will be no judgment from any of us. We only want to know for the sake of our curiosity so, my apologies."

“Okay…” He already knows what she’s going to ask.

“Do you plan on keeping the child?”

Yup.

“I am,” Keith answers. “And before you argue about how stupid it is, I’ve already thought about the consequences. I’m still going to have the baby despite that.”

“None of us are going to say that, Keith,” Allura says kindly. “We were all going to support you no matter what decision you made. That’s what friends do.”

"I was kinda hoping you'd keep it," Lance admits, moving to sit on the armrest of Keith's chair. "Having a Voltron baby is, like, the coolest thing ever!" He wraps an arm around Keith. "We'll all get to be aunts and uncles!"

“You’re already an uncle,” Keith points out.

“Voltron uncle, then.”

“Oh man, this is so exciting!” Hunk says with a bright smile on his face. “You're gonna have a baby!”

Then, Keith is in the middle of a big group hug. He stills for a moment, out of surprise, and then tries to wrap his arms around all of them with a laugh. It doesn't work out, of course, but he knows that they appreciate the attempt.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

 

☆ ☆

 

“Hey,” Pidge says, and throws a piece of lint at him.

“Ow,” Keith responds, even though it landed nowhere near him.

The other three Paladins are asleep in a pile on the floor, which happened halfway through their impromptu movie night. Pidge stayed awake with him while the third movie ran its course, apparently part of a trilogy. It was vaguely interesting, with some good fight scenes here and there, but Keith was unable to pay attention; there were more pressing matters on his mind.

“Are you going to tell him?” Pidge asks after Keith looks over at her.

Like this, for instance.

“I don’t know,” Keith says, tipping his head back against the couch. “I probably should, right? He  _ is _ the other father. He deserves to know.”

“Are you saying that because you  _ want _ Shiro to know or because your kind of unhealthy relationship with him is pushing you to tell him?”

Keith frowns. “Unhealthy?”

“We’ll get to that another day,” Pidge replies with a wave of her hand. She leans forward to snatch a cookie off the plate that’s still on the coffee table, bringing her knees up to her chest as she nibbles on it. “Just because he knocked you up doesn’t mean he’s entitled to know about it.”

“I guess,” Keith says uncertainly, releasing a drawn-out sigh.

“Whatever happens, just know that we're all here for you.” She reaches over and pats his arm. “We'll get through this together.”

“Thanks,” he replies. “I appreciate your support.”

“No problem,” Pidge says brightly, patting him one more time before pulling her arm back. “Also, you should know that I claim the title of godparent and no one else can take it from me, no matter how much they bribe you.”

“Okay?” Keith replies, bemused.

Pidge nods firmly. “Glad we had this conversation. I promise I’ll be the best godparent ever.” She grabs the plate of cookies and hands them over. “Now, eat the rest of the cookies. You’re eating for two, after all.”

“Yes, mother,” he says with an eye roll and laughs when she hits him.

 

☆ ☆

 

Keith’s sitting at the edge of the roof on top of the Garrison, heel scuffing along the side of the building as he kicks his dangling legs from time to time. His eyes are fixed on the sky, watching three birds circle each other in elaborate movements. It seems like they're chasing each other—maybe it’s a fight over a potential mate? A test of flight prowess to impress the lucky bird?

The door behind him creaks open, dragging his attention away from the sky. His gaze falls upon a surprised Shiro, whose expression shifts to a more sheepish one as he shuts the door.

“I should have known you’d be here,” Shiro says, walking over and sitting beside him. “You always liked to come up here whenever you had something on your mind.”

“You know me so well,” Keith replies dryly.

Shiro laughs in response. “I just remember that you used to do it so often back when we were at the Garrison.” His voice is a touch too fond when he says, “I guess some things never change.”

“Maybe not,” he says. “But  _ we _ have.”

“Yeah,” Shiro replies, mirth fading away. “You’re definitely right about that.” He leans back on his hands, staring out into the desert as he asks, "So, what brought you up here?"

Keith shrugs and shakes his head, still not sure if he’s ready to talk about it.

He spent a long time thinking about the situation and has argued with himself over whether he should tell Shiro or not. Keith would even go so far as to start walking to Shiro's room, intent on telling him. Then Pidge's advice would swirl in his mind, causing him to flee before he can get there.

Telling Shiro is a hard choice to make. He can change the man’s life with two simple words or even halt the path he’s on just by bringing a baby into this. 

But maybe it won’t be as bad as his fears claim. Maybe things will work out, and Shiro will happily accept the news. Or things could go terribly, and Keith could lose Shiro forever.

_ Just go for it!  _ he tells himself.

Keith lets out a breath and turns to face him fully, surprised to see that Shiro is already looking at him. 

“I have to tell you something.” They both say at the same time, prompting them to blink at each other in bemusement before bursting into bright laughter.

“You go first,” he says once they’ve calmed down.

“No, you,” Shiro replies.

“No, y—” Keith pauses and huffs. “Just go before we end up this endless cycle of trying to make the other go.”

“Alright,” Shiro says with another laugh. He stares out into the distance, both hands linked together while his thumbs tap against each other. His chest heaves when he takes a deep breath, and what he says stops Keith’s heart:

“I’ve decided to try things with Adam.”

There's a pain that reverberates through him and strikes him to his core. It feels like he's swallowing broken glass, causing the shards to lodge in his throat. Every breath he takes forces coppery liquid to trickle down into his lungs until he's drowning in his own blood.

A slow death.

“We're going on a date tonight,” Shiro continues as if everything’s okay. “Then we’ll see where we can go from there.”

Something pulls at his lips and forces them to stretch out into a smile. A happy voice that sounds like his own says, “That’s great!”

“You think so?” Shiro’s wearing a bashful expression. “I’m happy to hear that. I know you said that you’d support my decision, but it’s still nice to hear your acceptance. Thanks.”

“No problem!” His voice says cheerfully. “What are friends for?”

Keith can only wonder how he’s talking when it hurts so much. He doesn’t even know how he can reciprocate Shiro’s side hug when the man wraps an arm around him in giddiness, pretending that he’s not burrowing into his side to enjoy these last moments with him.

“So,” Shiro says after he pulls away, a smile on his face. “What did you want to tell me?”

He gathers up the shattered pieces of his love and shoves them back into himself. Keith imagines a copy of himself covering his mouth, so nothing comes in or out. His feelings will be locked up once again, and they'll never see the light of day.

The way it should be.

“Nothing,” he forces out. “It’s not important, don’t worry about it.” His smile turns teasing. “Instead, worry about what you’re going to wear tonight. It’s not like we have a closet full of clothes, after all…”

Shiro’s eyes go wide. “God, you’re right,” he replies, sounding panicked “What the hell am I going to do?”

Keith pats Shiro’s knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll figure it out,” he tells him. "But if you're actually worried, you can always ask someone for help."

The smile that Shiro shoots him in response is so pleased and sweet. It makes Keith’s heart ache.

“Thanks,” he says in the soft voice of his, covering Keith’s hand with his own. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Keith.”

When Shiro finally leaves, Keith feels his absence like when his connection to the Red Lion disappeared—an emptiness that was similar to a gnawing hunger, unable to be sated no matter what he did.

He knows that he’ll still have Shiro in his life. They’re best friends, and they promised each other that nothing would change that, but after having him in bed and revisiting his feelings for the man time and time again… 

It’s going to be hard to let him go.

Up in the sky, two of the three birds pair up and fly away together. Keith watches as the third one flies around in languid circles, and wonders if it also feels the same hopelessness that’s coursing through Keith.

_ That’s the way the world is, _ Keith tells himself. There’s a sudden thickness at the back of his throat, and a determined tear slides down his cheek. He draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, gaze fixed on the black dot in the sky.

The bird lets out a cry that’s full of despair, and Keith thinks it’s fitting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so late. Please forgive me. 
> 
> I was so busy with life and after everything with s8 I was... lost. Hopefully, I can get back on track with this, even with school. I really hope you all enjoy this! And I'M SORRY ABOUT SHIRO. TRULY. He makes me tear my hair out even though I'm the one writing him... Lord.
> 
> Thank you to Aki and Feather for making sure this chapter was okay <3! I really appreciate you and I'm grateful.
> 
> WARNINGS: This chapter **isn't** explicit, except for some thoughts from Shiro. A bit of Adashi (Shiro/Adam), Dumbass Shiro, thoughts of infidelity **(only thoughts! Nothing actually happens)**. I think that's it.

This is how it ends.

Shiro, bearing down on Keith with his arm turned blade, the intent to kill burning through his veins like the sizzling heat of his weapon. Keith, peering up at him with terrified, desperate eyes as he blocks it with just his knife, voice breaking as he says three words that shock Shiro to his core:

“I love you.”

There’s no fighting the control that Haggar has over him, not when her magic is embedded deep in his mind and forcing every action to turn violent. Those words stop him for a moment, but it’s not enough.

He presses down harder, not even noticing that he begs Keith to let go, so it’s easier for both of them. After that, all Shiro registers is the smell of scorched flesh, Keith's scream, and a distant shriek in his mind as the connection to the witch is abruptly severed when Keith cleanly sliced off his right arm.

Shiro, falling to his knees in pain while his mind clears, hazy and regretful as he stares up at his savior, breathing out his name. Keith, with a fresh scar curving up his cheek, both blades in hand as he gazes down at Shiro with sadness, pain, and relief.

The world falls apart around them, and Shiro’s awareness comes and goes, on the cusp of death.

He can feel the warmth of Keith’s hand gripping his wrist, trying to save both of them, followed by the weightlessness of falling through space. Keith doesn't let go, and Shiro doesn't know why he's still trying to save someone like Shiro after what he nearly did.

Everything shatters around him.

Suddenly, they’re back on the platform. Things are playing out just as they had before, except this time he doesn’t give Keith the chance to cut off his arm.

Keith’s eyes go wide beneath him, a choked sound filling the air between them while Shiro’s burning blade sinks into his chest. Shiro watches impassively as blood and spit froths at Keith's mouth, as he stares up at Shiro tearfully and wheezes through his last breaths of life.

‘I love you,’ Keith mouths.

The world falls apart around them as the tainted magic in his mind snaps, leaving him completely aware of the situation and the dying boy in his arms. Horror floods through Shiro as he begs for Keith to hold on, begs for the forgiveness he doesn’t deserve, begs for Keith to come back to him with a guttural sob.

Fingers brush over his cheek, so gentle and sweet, and Keith’s smile is red-stained and sharp when Shiro looks down at him.

“You did this,” Keith intones, and then Shiro is the only one falling.

He falls, and he falls, and he falls, the weight of what he’s done pressing down on him until his ribs fracture and pierce his lungs. Shiro can’t even breathe or move or think, falling through infinite void until—

His body hits the floor with a loud thud, pain traveling through him at the force of his fall. He pants harshly and lifts his head, wildly looking around. Shiro doesn’t register everything around him, at first; his body is still thrumming with adrenaline. Once he can, he relaxes marginally.

“The Atlas,” he croaks out, lying on his back with his eyes squeezed shut. He presses his flesh hand against his face, uncaring of the cooling sweat he finds.

He hasn’t had a dream like that in a while.

“My name is Takashi Shirogane. I’m on the IGF-Atlas,” he says in a whisper, eyes burning with the threat of oncoming tears. “I’m the Admiral of the Atlas crew.” He searches for the clock in his room, a digital one that displays the date and time. “It’s currently 4:34 AM on a Wednesday. My name is Takashi Shirogane….”

Shiro keeps repeating this mantra until his racing heart calms down and he can no longer hear the blood rushing in his ears. He lets out a breath and removes the hand from his face, staring up at the darkened ceiling of his quarters while faint tremors run through him.

Reliving the fight is never ideal, but he’d prefer seeing _that_ in his dreams than having the memory change into a realistic monstrous nightmare. He hates that his mind does this to him, reminding him of what could have happened.

 _I’d rather it be the other way around,_ Shiro thinks darkly. The prospect of death always scared him, a promise that dangled ahead of him when he was going through life. It was the expected end for him no matter what he did, and while Shiro wanted to do all he could before death snatched him by the throat, he was still afraid.

If Keith died by his hands, then Shiro would gladly welcome death.

He considers messaging Keith, the need to reassure himself that he’s really okay and alive strong enough to make his hand twitch. All Shiro has to do is grab his datapad and send a message out, or even request a video call….

“No,” he tells himself firmly. “I’ll see him in the morning. There’s no need to bother him this early. He needs to rest.”

There have been times where he’d woken up from similar dreams with only a gasp, and all he had to do was roll over and press his hand to Keith’s cheek to feel his warmth—proof that he was alive.

That comfort is lost to him now, understandably so. Shiro is dating Adam now, which means that the arrangement he had with Keith came to an end. Now, when dealing with the dreams, all he does is wait until the usual time he gets up and then goes about his day like exhaustion isn’t clinging to his shoulders. He’ll also have breakfast with Keith, and while the short time spent together isn't enough to completely calm his rattled nerves, it’s enough for him to continue with his day.

His mind drifts to Adam, remembering that they promised to have a cup of coffee together before they threw themselves into their work. He frowns and hopes that Adam will be okay with Shiro rescheduling their small date for a later time.

 _Of course he will,_ Shiro reassures himself with a tiny smile on his face.

Dating Adam has been a breath of fresh air, paired with the familiarity of the man himself. He slowly wormed his way into Shiro’s life again with friendly lunch meetups and late night coffee talks. At some point during all of that, Shiro allowed himself to think ‘what if?’ It opened his mind to the possibility of having something normal, stable, and real throughout all the crazy in his current life.

After all of the conversations they had, the two of them setting boundaries and explaining where they are in life, things between them seem to be going well. Shiro is happy about that, he really is, but they’re both still having trouble with the whole concept of being together again.

“It’ll get easier,” he says, slowly picking himself up with a shaky exhale. He gets back into bed and sits against the wall. Shiro knows he’s not going to go back to sleep after a dream like that, so he sends his prosthetic across the room to grab his datapad off the coffee table.

He picks out a random movie from the files that Pidge sent to him and comfortably settles himself in bed, blankets wrapped around him until he’s nothing but warm.

Shiro still wants to reach out to Keith, but the movie presents enough distraction to keep him from giving in. He'll have to endure the last stretch of the early morning and find Keith before the day starts.

A small part of him thinks that his company would make the movie much better.

 

☆ ☆

 

Shiro quickly makes his way through the Atlas, hoping to avoid anyone that may want his attention. He does feel a small amount of guilt for doing this, but the need to accomplish his personal mission outweighs it. Seeing Keith is a priority.

He finds Keith in the Black Lion's hangar, sitting back against one of her large claws with Kosmo sprawled across his lap. Shiro falters for a moment, his hand clenched at his side when he lifts his eyes to meet the Lion's gleaming yellow ones. Their bond no longer exists, severed the moment Allura pulled his soul out of Black’s inner quintessence, and he got so used to her all-consuming presence in the infinite void that being on the outside is strangely unnerving.

Shiro shakes himself from the feeling, striding over to Keith once he breaks the stare with the Lion. Keith looks up at him as he draws near, and the smile that stretches across his face is enough to make his heart skip.

He’s always happy to see his friend.

“Hi,” Shiro breathes, stopping in front of him. “I was looking for you.”

"Well, I'm right here," Keith replies and pats the empty space beside him. "Take a seat, Shiro. I'll be nice and share my hiding place with you."

“I’m not hiding!” Shiro says, feeling himself flush over the way his voice rises in pitch.

Keith raises an unimpressed brow, and even Kosmo peers up at him with a similar look.

Shiro sighs and sinks to the floor. "Okay," he admits, reaching over to brush a hand over Kosmo's fur. "I might be hiding a little, but I really did want to see you."

“Is everything alright?” Keith asks with an expression of concern.

“Everything’s fine,” Shiro quickly assures, dropping a hand down to squeeze his knee. He offers a quick smile and only continues after Keith has relaxed beneath his touch. “I just… I had a dream.”

Keith says nothing, gazing at him with an air of patience that he rarely had before. It reminds Shiro of how far he’s come, and how much he’s grown into the role that Shiro knew was right for him. The sight of him is enough to calm the nerves that had been bothering him since the dream, but he’s not in the mood to relive it.

“I’ll be glad when we finally win this war,” he says instead, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “I’m tired of fighting.”

“Yeah?” Keith’s voice is soft, understanding. He doesn’t press for details and accepts the subject change, going along with it to spare Shiro. It’s one of the things Shiro likes about Keith. “What do you plan on doing after it’s over?”

Shiro lets out a dry laugh. “If I survive.” He opens his eyes when he feels a smack on his thigh, barely containing his grin at the exasperation he sees across Keith’s face. “I’m kidding,” he assures with another, lighter laugh. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Have you thought about it?”

“I guess,” Shiro says half-heartedly, releasing a deep sigh. “I’ve spent so much of my life thinking I would die that I never thought about the future, only about what I wanted to do in the present time. I focused on current tasks to give myself a goal to work toward.”

“Alright,” Keith says, patting his thigh. “Then let’s start with that.”

He tries to think it over and finds nothing. Shiro’s being truthful when he says that he’s never given it much thought, but it’s a little embarrassing that he can’t come up with one on the spot.

“Want me to go first?” Keith asks with a laugh.

Shiro ducks his head, sheepish. “Please.”

"This might sound a little stupid," Keith says, sounding embarrassed. When Shiro glances over, he can see his cheeks turning red. "My goal for the future is to have the family I've always wanted."

“Yeah?” Shiro smiles at him. “That’s not stupid at all, Keith. I’m sure Krolia would be more than happy to be with you after everything. Hell, she’s probably already planning on it.”

“Yeah,” Keith says quietly.

“That’s a nice goal, Keith. You deserve to have that.” Shiro releases a self-deprecating laugh, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Wish I could say the same for myself.”

“Shiro,” Keith whispers, a touch of anguish in his voice. Shiro feels a curl of shame in his chest, staring down at his lap and hating himself for making Keith feel that way.

A hand curls around his left one, the touch gentle. It prompts Shiro to look over at Keith again, almost surprised to see the fierce expression on his face. “You deserve it just as much as I do,” Keith says. He squeezes Shiro’s hand. “You already have it with me.”

“Really?” Shiro asks in surprise. There’s a warm feeling spreading through his chest, the kind that makes him feel all happy and gooey on the inside. “You mean that?”

“Of course," Keith replies softly. "You’re my family. You always have been.”

All Shiro can do is offer a weak smile, pretending the admission isn’t causing his eyes to burn. “Thanks, Keith.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I mean it.”

Keith releases his hand and wraps his arm around Shiro’s shoulders, and Shiro wraps his own around his waist. The side hug makes him melt a little, especially when Kosmo worms his way between them to slobber all over their faces with affectionate licks.

He feels like he’s part of a family.

“Kosmo!” Keith complains, leaning away and wiping his face with his sleeve. “We’ve talked about this! You know you have to wait until someone says it’s okay!”

“You’re calling him Kosmo,” Shiro remarks, using his prosthetic hand to give Kosmo some ear scratches. He wipes off most of the drool with his own sleeve, making a mental note to stop by the bathroom later to properly wash it off. “I thought you didn’t like that name.”

“I never said I didn’t like it!” Keith protests. His face is still a bit shiny with wolf spit. “All I said was that I was going to wait for him to tell me his name. Except, he kept responding to Kosmo, so I asked if he was okay with it and he told me he was.”

“He told you,” Shiro says, amused and endeared by the way Keith treats the space wolf. “What else did he say?”

“He said you’re a dumbass,” Keith retorts, and Shiro curls over with a wheeze when Keith jabs his side with a sharp elbow. Kosmo lets out a rumble that sounds suspiciously like a laugh of his own. “He also thinks your face is dumb.”

“Like father, like son,” Shiro says with a dramatic sigh, pretending to wipe away a tear. “I was waiting for the day when you’d turn Kosmo against me. I can’t believe it’s already here.”

He receives another elbow jab for his trouble and bursts into laughter, which is followed by Kosmo’s rumbles and a soft huff from Keith. After the amusement dies down, they fall into a comfortable silence. Shiro goes back to petting Kosmo, who shuts his eyes in bliss and remains sprawled across both of their laps.

“You know,” Shiro says after a while, gaze fixed on the blue markings around Kosmo’s eyes. “I don’t have my disease anymore.”

He can sense Keith’s surprise without having to see it, and can feel his stare burning into the side of his head. Shiro releases a shaky breath and focuses on giving Kosmo ear scratches, chest rattling with his own disbelief.

"Maybe that's why I've never given my future much thought," he continues quietly. "My disease was a constant reminder that I wouldn't have one. Now that I know it's not going to stop me from living out the rest of my life… I don’t know what to think.” His eyes are starting to burn again, and he’s grateful that Keith would never judge him for the two tears that slip down his cheeks. “I don’t have to be afraid of dying anymore.”

A hand squeezes his shoulder, and the weight of it is soothing. Shiro takes a shuddering breath and covers his wet eyes with his left hand. He has been too busy to think about the good news, but now that he's finally said it out loud it feels a lot more real to him.

His disease was always a part of him, something he was forced to live with and held him back from accomplishing so many things when he was younger. Shiro pushed himself to do all he could before it could take his life. He was living on a timer that could run out at any moment, and he wasn’t going to waste any chances.

Even though the new absence of the disease was the result of a witch wanting a perfect weapon, Shiro isn’t going to complain. He’ll never be thankful, especially after everything she did, but he’s come to accept the fact that she did this. Its given him the chance to live his life, and now the war is his only worry.

Keith continues to say nothing, even when Shiro’s tears dry out and he’s left trembling with the remnants of his joy and grief. He’s a steady presence at Shiro’s side, and Shiro is forever grateful to have a friend like Keith in his life.

“God, I needed that,” Shiro rasps out, wiping at his face. He feels exhausted after his small crying session, and he also feels like a weight has left his shoulders.

“I could tell,” Keith replies. There’s a tiny smile on his face when Shiro looks over at him. “How long have you been holding all of that in?”

“Too long,” he answers, scrubbing a hand down his hot face.

“You don’t have to do that anymore, Shiro. I’m here for you, and I’ll always be here for you.” Keith’s voice is so gentle, and it makes his eyes prickle and burn, tears threatening to make a return. “Whenever you need an open ear or a shoulder to cry on, remember that you can come to me.”

“Just you?” Shiro teases. He leans against Keith, shoulder to shoulder as the words sink into his soul. It’s hard for him to reach out to people for help, but Keith always makes it easier for him.

“The others, too,” Keith says with an exaggerated eye-roll.

They stay in the hangar until they’re both forced to leave after receiving multiple calls on their communicators. Shiro reluctantly says goodbye, pulling Keith into a proper hug once they stand up. He buries his face in Keith’s hair, closing his eyes as he basks in the warm embrace.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

Keith squeezes him tighter. “Of course.”

 

☆ ☆

 

Things seem to pick up soon after their conversation.

The Altean that piloted the Robeast has woken up, but refuses to give up any information about Honerva or the other Alteans. Romelle revealed her name early on, and the use of it only seems to anger the Altean. Luca ignores Allura or Coran when they try to reach out to her, and lashes out at Romelle when she stops by to talk.

Romelle told them all that Luca had a desire to be part of something greater than herself, and Allura regretfully cut in with the idea that it might have caused Luca to be manipulated so easily by the witch.

It did make sense.

All of the Alteans in the colony worshipped Lotor. Honerva could have used that to sway them all to her side by parading her title of his mother. She probably pointed an accusing finger at Voltron for killing their precious savior, pulling more of the Alteans into her orbit to create an army of her own.

“What can we do about it?” Shiro asks during one of their meetings (Paladins only).

“The only solution is to go back out there and find out where she is,” Keith replies. “Except we can’t exactly do that when the Atlas is still undergoing repairs.”

“And without the Atlas, we won’t be able to recharge the cores of our Lions,” Allura reminds him. The bags under her eyes are more pronounced when she frowns. “We can handle traveling to different systems on our own, but if we get caught in a fight against Honerva, then we might not stand a chance. We need each other to defeat her.”

“Even with the help of the Olkari, repairs are slow going,” Shiro says with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "My connection with the Atlas is like your connection to the Lions, except she relies on me more. The Atlas only cooperates when I'm there with her."

“Which is hard when you’ve got countless meetings with literally everyone on the planet,” Lance says sympathetically.

Shiro sighs again. “Exactly.”

“Is your presence really needed in these meetings?” Hunk asks. His eyes go a bit wide afterwards. “I’m not asking to be mean,” he says quickly. “I’m just wondering!”

“I know, Hunk,” Shiro assures with a laugh. “I honestly don't know. They say they need me and then when I’m there I either contribute little to the conversation or spend the whole time talking about the Coalition, the Atlas, and Voltron.” He lets out a breath. “I haven’t even had time to myself between it all.”

The Paladins exchange a few looks, a silent conversation that ends when Keith nods and looks at Shiro.

"What if we took your place in these meetings?" he asks. "Allura and I are more than capable with handling most of them."

“Especially the ones that require diplomacy,” Allura adds cheerfully.

“Pidge and Hunk can take on the ones that discuss the Atlas and Voltron since they know how it all works and can simplify the technological jargon for those who don’t understand. Lance can be in charge of meetings about the Coalition because he knows pretty much everyone. If we need help for one meeting, then either one of us can join in to make it easier.” Keith smiles. “How does that sound?”

Shiro blinks and leans back against his chair. “You guys have given this some thought,” he remarks. His voice wavers a little.

“We’re a team, Shiro,” Lance says. “More importantly, we’re friends. Of course we’re going to help you out.”

“You’ve done so much for us already,” Pidge chimes. “It’s only fair that we do something in return. We know you’d rather be with the Atlas to speed things along, and you deserve to have a break.”

"Some of the Blades and a lot of our Coalition allies have taken up humanitarian relief efforts," Keith says. "Which gives us enough free time to be more involved in this."

“What about your families?” Shiro can’t help but ask. “Don’t you want to spend more time with them?”

“You’re our family too,” Pidge says with a smile. “We’re not gonna leave you behind.”

Shiro stares back at her, incredulous. When he gazes at the rest of his friends, he sees them all nodding in agreement.

He had feared, for a while, that the Paladins would surely move on with their lives now that he isn’t a part of the Voltron lineup. Having this reassurance spoken so plainly, with a sureness that cements the truth of it, breaks down this hidden fear until there’s nothing left. Shiro feels dizzy with the affirmation of their love for him, and all he can do is beam.

“Thank you,” he says softly. “For everything.”

Their meeting comes to a close after they change everyone’s schedules around to fit in the meeting times. Lance and Pidge plan a video game session for the night while they’re doing this, inviting everyone else along.

“I can’t,” Keith says as he stands, looking down at his datapad. “I have plans with James. Sorry.”

Lance huffs and crosses his arms. “I swear he’s taking up all your time just to annoy us,” he grumbles. He slams both palms on the table and hops up, squinting at Keith. “What are you doing this time, huh? Watching a movie? Going out to eat? Traveling to a point in deep space where none of us can find you?”

Keith lifts his head and arches a brow, straight-faced when he says, “We’re heading out to the markets for… _something._ Kinkade also asked us to look for film equipment while we’re there. If you guys are still up when I’m back, I’ll try and stop by to play for a while.”

Shiro watches as Lance’s irritation fades away, quickly replaced with concern. “You know what you’re looking for?” Lance asks. “I can go with you, if you want. My aunt—”

“I’m good,” Keith cuts in with a gentle smile. “Thanks, though. I appreciate the offer.”

“Anytime, man,” Lance says with a nod. “You know we’re here for you.”

This conversation feels vastly different than the one they all had with Shiro. He feels as though they’re in on some big secret that Shiro is not privy to, and curiosity prickles beneath his skin. It’s something regarding Keith, he can deduce that much, and he can’t help but feel slightly hurt that he doesn’t know what it is.

He forces the feeling down and busies himself with his datapad. Shiro shouldn’t feel bad over not knowing what’s going on in Keith’s life. Everyone’s allowed their secrets, and Shiro shouldn’t expect to know every little thing about Keith.

Shiro scrolls through messages and finds a recent one from Adam.

_[A. Wells] Something came up. We can meet for lunch tomorrow instead? Sorry._

It confuses Shiro for a second, and then he belatedly remembers that they’re supposed to meet for dinner tonight for a proper date. Well, they were, and now Shiro is left feeling guilty for not thinking about his boyfriend until now.

They haven't had much time for each other with how busy they are, and their dates are supposed to help move things along. All they've managed to do so far is cancel, cancel, cancel. It's honestly a little aggravating at times, but hopefully, there will be more moments to make up for it with the changes in Shiro's schedule.

With a sigh, Shiro replies to the message.

_[T. Shirogane] It’s fine. Let’s make it a date, okay? I’ll be free._

“See you later, Shiro.”

The sound of Keith’s voice pulls his attention away from his datapad, matching his smile with one of his own. Keith rests a hand on his shoulder as he stops by Shiro’s chair, giving it a friendly squeeze.

“See you,” Shiro replies and then peers up at him inquisitively. “Are we going to meet for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Depends on how I feel,” Keith replies easily. “I’ll let you know.”

Shiro nods, and then he feels Keith squeeze his shoulder one more time before exiting the meeting room. The others are standing around, and they only move once Shiro rises from his seat. He chuckles in realization.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” he says.

“Of course we do, we’re dragging you to the video game extravaganza,” Lance retorts, grabbing his left arm to drag him away from the table word. Well, he tries to. Shiro doesn’t move an inch. “Come on, Shiro,” Lance says with a huff. “Work with me.”

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” Shiro replies cheekily, hearing Allura’s quiet laughter fill the room.

Lance's eyes slide away, attention diverted by the sound. A soft smile spreads across his face as he stares at Allura. His grip on Shiro's arm grows slack, body angled toward the Princess like he'd rather be at her side to share the joy.

Shiro glances over at Hunk and Pidge, both standing near the door with twin expressions of amusement. He pulls his arm free from Lance's hold and goes to stand with them. Allura and Lance take no notice, already lost in their own world as they exchange quips and laugh together.

“Come on,” Pidge says, tugging on his sleeve. “Let’s start walking. They’ll catch up.”

When Shiro steps out into the hallway, he spies Keith and James making their way down the hall. Their heads are bent low, and they're speaking in quiet whispers that Shiro can't decipher. His hand clenches around the datapad when he sees that their arms are linked together, and he wonders if they’re holding hands.

“Shiro?”

“Huh?” Shiro tears his gaze away from the two, peering down at Pidge. She looks up at him with a furrowed brow and concern written across her face, but her eyes pin him in place. It makes him feel like he’s being picked apart, much like the tech experiments she constantly spreads out across a single lab table. “Sorry, right.” He smiles sheepishly. “Video games.”

“Video games,” Pidge echoes with a nod, swiftly turning to follow Hunk down the hall.

Shiro risks a glance behind him, a little disappointed when he sees no flash of red or orange uniform. Something heavy begins to build deep in his chest when he thinks about Keith going off with Griffin.

“Shiro!”

He shakes himself free from this untoward emotion and quickly catches up to his friends. Tonight, all Shiro wants to do is let loose and have some fun.

It would be better to have Keith with them, though.

 

☆ ☆

 

During one of his free days, Shiro decides to head down to the markets. He’s particularly excited about this trip because he’ll encounter wildly different alien trinkets, since the markets contain a mix of humans and aliens. The day becomes even better when Adam joins him as he’s about to enter the line of stalls.

“I’m only in the area to retrieve something for a colleague,” Adam tells him. His lips twitch like he’s battling a smile. “She didn’t say that she needed it at a specific time, so… I suppose I can stay for longer.”

“Does this count as a date, then?” Shiro asks slyly.

Adam drops a hand and laces their fingers together, which makes Shiro tense for a moment before he forces himself to relax. He’s still not used to such simple affection from his boyfriend.

“Only if you plan on buying me lunch,” Adam quips.

They browse through all of the stalls together and make a game out of trying to figure out the purpose of obscure items. Shiro recognizes some of the odd trinkets, and he has to carefully navigate through multiple stories of when and where he saw it while leaving out the major details (namely, Shiro constantly being in danger).

Halfway through lunch, Adam receives a message from his colleague. It forces him to leave sooner than they’d like, and he drops a kiss onto Shiro’s head before exiting the pizzeria they decided to eat at. Shiro sits there alone, methodically eating the rest of his pizza (with new toppings, influenced by their Coalition visitors). He keeps walking through the aisles afterward, already missing the presence of his boyfriend—only because he’d feel less lonely.

He stops at a stand that has columns and columns of swords and knives, all of them pinned to the frontal board and the back wall. Shiro gauges them all with mild interest. If he were to get one, it wouldn’t be for him. He has to figure out which one Keith would like the most.

Shiro spies an all black knife and reaches for it, wanting to test its weight, and ends up bumping hands with another person.

“Sorry,” Shiro says hastily, drawing his hand back.

“It’s fine,” a familiar voice replies teasingly. “But if we’re eyeing the same thing then I’m not opposed to the idea of fighting you for it, Shiro. I saw it first.”

“Keith!” Shiro’s grinning as he looks over. “Hey! What are you doing—” He stops and blinks, a bit slack-jawed when he finally registers Keith’s appearance.

Keith's not wearing anything out of the ordinary; a plain black shirt and black jeans tucked into scruffed red and white boots. The one thing that's different is the new jacket. It’s colored similarly to his old one, but the style of it looks like it belongs in an 80s sitcom. Fingerless gloves adorn his hands, the ones that Shiro bought him so many years ago, and his hair is pulled back into a low ponytail. Shiro can't stop staring at the small wisps of hair that curl around his face.

“New jacket?” Shiro asks roughly. Hmm, weird. He must have something stuck in his throat.

“Oh, yeah!” Keith smiles brightly as he looks down at it. His voice takes on a softer, happier note when he says, “My mom got it for me. Early birthday present.”

“It’s nice,” Shiro says, clearing his throat and rubbing at his burning cheeks. “You look good.”

“Thanks.”

Keith still has that joyful expression on his face, and it’s contagious. Shiro finds himself smiling at his friend, nearly falling against the stall when someone rudely bumps into him as they’re walking by. He doesn’t fall over, only because Keith already had his arms to steady him the moment he lost his balance.

“Always saving me,” Shiro jokes, laughing as he moves closer to Keith.

Except, Keith doesn’t laugh.

There’s amusement on his face, yes, but there’s also a touch of sadness that causes Shiro’s laugh to thin out into nothingness. Keith lets out a breath as his eyes slide away, and Shiro feels the loss of his attention weigh him down.

“Of course,” Keith murmurs.

The memory of another moment flits across his mind, a weakened Shiro (and also, not Shiro) sitting in bed while a younger Keith stands only a few feet away before he starts exiting the room. Shiro stops him as he’s leaving, asking one last thing:

_“How many times are you gonna have to save me before this is over?”_

Both the Keith in the memory and the Keith standing beside him speak as one, answering the question that has since defined their relationship: _“As many times as it takes.”_

“Even for the little things, huh?” Shiro asks quietly.

Keith smiles again, simple words following such a deep declaration, “Even then.”

It’s one of the few subjects they haven’t bothered to touch, boxed up and saved for another day. Shiro doesn’t even know where to begin with a promise like that, and he certainly doesn’t know how to bring it up for a casual discussion.

 _Well, we’re here right now,_ Shiro thinks. _Might as well._

“About that,” he starts, jumping when Keith abruptly hums loudly and points at one of the glittering knives behind the vendor.

“That one,” Keith declares. “I like that one.”

And just like that, they’ve moved on.

Shiro bites back his sigh, peering over at the knife in question. It’s smaller than Keith’s Marmoran one, and it’s a deep maroon color with flecks of purple glowing spots scattered all across the blade.

“Really?” Shiro wrinkles his nose. “Looks kinda weird.”

“To you, maybe. To me, it looks beautiful.”

“Then buy it.”

“I wish I could, but I need all of my money for something more important.” Keith gazes at the knife longingly, a fair amount of hope in his eyes. “Maybe it’ll still be here after, and then I can buy it for myself.”

Shiro is just about ready to offer to buy it for Keith when they’re interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind them. He turns, eyebrows rising in surprise when he spies James Griffin standing there. Griffin offers Shiro a salute, as he usually does, and then turns his attention to Keith.

“Ready to get some food?” Griffin asks. “Or do you still want to look around?”

“No, I’m pretty much done,” Keith says, and then smirks. “I wouldn’t keep you away from food for too long, you know. I’m not that evil.”

“You say that and yet you had me riding out here at two in the morning just to grab you some of that tangy peanut butter you tried the other day,” Griffin grumbles with his arms crossed. Shiro can see the mirth in his eyes, though. “You’re a devil, and you know it.”

Keith actually _flutters_ his lashes, which sends them into peals of laughter.

Shiro feels like a third wheel as he watches them, off in their own little world. It reminds him of Allura and Lance from a few days ago, laughing together and gazing at each other with stars in their eyes, and his stomach twists strangely at the comparison his mind draws.

Keith’s voice brings him back to the present. “I’ll see you around, Shiro.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you.” Shiro catches Keith's wrist before he can leave. “Maybe during breakfast tomorrow?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Keith huffs, and Shiro is surprised when he’s pulled in for a quick hug. “Message me when you wake up. If I don’t respond then come and knock on my door. I’ve been sleeping a lot more lately, and I’m tired of it.”

“Isn’t more sleep considered good?” Shiro asks wryly, patting Keith’s back a few times. His fingers brush over the ends of his soft hair. “I’d say that’s a win.”

“Okay, Mr. I’ll-Sleep-When-I-Pass-Out-From-Exhaustion. Whatever you say.”

“That was one time!” Shiro protests. “And it’s not like you haven’t been in the exact same predicament….”

Keith rolls his eyes good-naturedly and leaves with a wave of his hand, walking close to Griffin as they make their way down the aisle. Shiro looks away and sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

He could keep browsing the market, see what else it has to offer, but the thought of being alone any longer doesn’t appeal to him. Maybe he should go back to the Garrison to search for Adam, maybe bring back some coffee or bags of snacks for them.

Shiro glances over at the knife that Keith wanted. He stands there, considering it. The vendor is still seated close by, paying no attention to Shiro as they scroll through their datapad. He takes a step forward and rings the little bell on the counter, already pulling out his wallet once the vendor lifts their head.

“How much for that knife?”

He’ll save it for Keith’s birthday.

 

☆ ☆

 

They don’t get to have breakfast for a while.

Keith is thrown into meeting after meeting, most of them regarding the Blade of Marmora. There are still a few individuals who aren’t keen on trusting anyone Galra, so Keith has been working as a bridge between Kolivan and various world leaders. Shiro was lucky enough to be present in a couple of these meetings, and watching Keith slip into the role of mediator fills him with a fair amount of pride.

Sometimes, they’ll have a quick chat after these meetings. It only happens when they're moving through the halls, weaving between one place and the next until they part ways with equally tired goodbyes.

Shiro is either in a meeting, on the Atlas, or having a small date with Adam. All of his time is consumed, allowing barely any reprieve even with the changes his friends made to his schedule. It almost makes Shiro miss being out in space, even if he was fighting for his life and the freedom of those under the Galra Empire’s rule most of the time.

There are times when he does get a moment to himself, and he always escapes to the Garrison rooftop for some much-needed fresh air.

It gets to the point where Shiro becomes more than a little frazzled, needing some time to himself to get back on his feet and recharge his batteries. He’s hit with an idea, quite literally, when he bumps into Keith in the hangar one day. Shiro ends up grabbing Keith by his shoulders, staring at him desperately.

“Please go on a hoverbike ride with me,” Shiro practically begs, eyes flitting around the room to make sure no one’s coming toward them. He doesn’t want to be dragged into something now that he _finally_ has a moment of freedom. “I need to get out of here.”

Keith looks so concerned when he says, "They're still running you ragged, huh?"

“Yes and no,” Shiro answers, pulling Keith in the direction of the hangar. He finds no resistance, and it nearly makes him sag with relief. “I have a lot more free time thanks to you guys, but I don’t really have any alone time. I’m either with a colleague or Adam or with all of you.”

“Are you sure you want me to go with you? If you’d rather be alone, then….”

“Of course I want you to come alone!” Shiro says, glancing over at him and flashing a smile. “I miss doing this with you.” He stops before they enter the hangar, wrapping an arm around Keith and giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I like when it’s just the two of us. It’s comfortable, you know?”

“Yeah,” Keith replies with a smile of his own. “I get what you mean.”

They have to sign off on the use of two hoverbikes, a precaution to prevent the loss or damage of a hoverbike (or, at the very least, payment from the person borrowing it should either happen). Kosmo zaps between them before they leave, carrying a basket full of goods from the kitchens. He teleports away after Shiro and Keith give him enough scratches behind his ear and beneath his chin.

“Huh,” Keith says. He passes over a sticky note that was on top of the basket. “Guess they knew you’d kidnap me for a joyride.”

Shiro rolls his eyes, taking the paper from him to see its contents. It has a doodle of Lance, Hunk, Pidge, and Allura in one corner, and another one across it with a horribly drawn thumbs up. The word ‘Enjoy!’ rests in the center, and a tiny drawing of all four mice right beside it.

“The mice probably told Allura,” Shiro concludes. He hands the note back to Keith, who slips it into his front pocket. “Wanna strap this into yours or mine?”

“Probably yours. Less risk of Kosmo jumping in and eating it all while we’re riding through the desert.”

“That sounds… oddly specific.”

“Don’t ask.”

Shiro securely straps the basket to his hoverbike, then pulls a pair of goggles on before taking off with Keith. They start with a slow cruise, which is good because Shiro needs to adjust to the newer controls. He takes his time, trying to get used to piloting something that's not a sentient battleship.

Keith doesn’t have that problem, always a natural no matter what he rides.

After there’s enough distance between them and the Garrison, Shiro looks over at Keith and tightens his hands around the handles.

“Wanna race?” he asks and is rewarded with a fierce grin.

They race through the desert while the sun hangs high in the sky, loud laughs nearly lost in the roar of the wind. There are moments where Shiro catches up to Keith, only to see his competitive smirk for a split second before he speeds up with a loud whoop.

It almost feels like old times, when Shiro was trying to bridge the gap between them to get Keith to see that he truly had a place in this world. He was less broken back then, only one worry on his mind while trying to shape a path for Keith—a legacy that would continue even after his existence failed to.

Shiro shakes himself out of somber memories, speeding up to ride next to Keith.

“Pretty sure the cliff is still there!” Keith calls out. “Think you can still make the jump, _old timer?_ ”

After childishly sticking out his tongue, Shiro twists the handle and braces himself for the upcoming fall. He does sneak a glance at Keith as the bike flies off, and seeing the unabashed joy on his face is enough to let his own come out in the form of a loud laugh.

They fall together and pull up at the same time before driving off to their old spot.

Keith manages to win the race and Shiro’s breathless with the rush of the ride once he comes up to park beside him. They both hop off the hoverbikes, Shiro pushing his goggles up and holding his left hand up for a high five. His arm quickly falls back to his side when he notices how _pale_ Keith suddenly looks, and how he’s swaying in place.

“Are you okay?” he asks, rushing over to bring him to a rock. When Keith doesn’t answer, he guides him to sit on it. “I’ll go see if they packed us any water.”

After grabbing the basket, Shiro sets it down in front of Keith. He pushes a checkered blanket aside along with a loaf of bread, relieved when his fingers brush over a cold bottle. He pulls out a green bottle with no label and frowns, twisting the cap off to sniff it.

“Ginger ale?” Shiro says in surprise.

A hand appears in his line of sight as he's inspecting the bottle, and Shiro hands it over without question. When Keith turns away to drink his ginger ale, Shiro goes about setting up their picnic. He lays out the checkered blanket and takes out all of the food, neatly placing each item in the center.

Along with the loaf of bread, there are a few apples, a tray with assorted meats and cheeses, two bags of chips, a bottle of mustard, and a jar of peanut butter. There’s silverware wrapped in a cloth, along with two slices of chocolate cake. Shiro’s mouth waters when he sees them, and he distracts himself by cutting the apples.

Keith sits across him after he finishes slicing them. There’s more color to his cheeks, and he doesn't look like he's going to be sick anymore.

“Feeling better?” Shiro asks, pushing the plate of apple slices closer to him. Keith picks one up and delicately bites into it, nodding without looking back at Shiro. “What was that?” he asks next. “Are you getting sick?”

“A little bit,” Keith answers, taking another sip of his ginger ale. “Galra don’t normally get sick, and I never did as a child. I guess maturing in both human and Galra sides might be messing with me a little. I don’t know. Mom isn’t too worried about it, though, so I can deal with some nausea and dizziness. No big deal.”

Shiro bites his lip. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

The confidence in Keith’s tone settles his concern. It still lingers in the back of his mind, but it can take a back-burner if Keith doesn’t want Shiro to focus on him being sick (which is normal). “Alright,” he says, wiping the knife off so he can cut the bread in half. “What do you want in your sandwich?”

A comfortable silence permeates the space around them as they eat their food. Shiro already feels relaxed, recharging after several days of non-stop socialization. He occasionally sneaks glances at Keith, happy to see him so content out here.

Shiro missed this.

“So, how are things with you and Adam?” Keith asks suddenly, peering over at Shiro as he tosses a chip into his mouth.

“Things are going great,” Shiro answers, taking a bite out of his sandwich to hide his grimace.

Keith arches a brow. “I sense a ‘but’ here.”

Shiro sighs and stares down at the checkered blanket. "You're right," he admits, rubbing a hand down his face. "Sometimes, it's hard to talk to him. We try to find a common ground, but… five years is a long time.”

“Does that upset you?”

“No!” Shiro vehemently shakes his head. “No, it doesn’t. I swear.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Shiro takes a huge gulp of water, trying to figure out how to put his feelings into words. When he glances over at Keith, all he sees is patience and understanding. It helps him relax.

No matter what he says, Keith will never judge him.

"Honestly? I wish things were easier between us," Shiro finally says quietly, brushing some crumbs off his pants. “We’ve been talking more, navigating the new life we have together, but scars from the past still linger. I find it hard to move past the last memory I have of Adam, which is our fight and subsequent breakup, and I think Adam struggles with not being needed as much as before since I no longer have my disease.”

Keith frowns. “Why would that be a struggle for him?”

“He liked to take care of me,” Shiro replies, a spark of nostalgia flitting through him. It's gone in a flash when he reminds himself that thinking about the past only causes him to mourn it. “I was mad about it, at first. I thought he was pitying me for my disease, but… no. He said he wanted to take care of me because I took care of everyone without thinking about myself.”

“He was right about that,” Keith says with a small chuckle. “Being taken care of doesn’t sound so bad, Shiro.”

“It never was,” Shiro says, leaning forward to snatch an apple slice off the plate. “There were times when I did hate it, especially when he got all worried about me for doing anything strenuous, and the rest of the time I secretly loved it.”

“Maybe you should let him do it again.”

Shiro frowns, glancing at Keith. “Do what?”

"Take care of you." Keith tilts his head, face serious. "You've always been independent, Shiro. Even back then, you liked to do things on your own. There's nothing wrong with letting loose once in a while, and I'm sure he’d love to learn about the new you in a way he knows how. Maybe you should open up and let him in."

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Shiro says hesitantly.

“Even if you do decide to do that, there are still some things you’ll need to work through together. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like you’re both too invested in the past. Lingering on it isn’t good for you. Trust me.” Keith offers the tiniest smile. “Having a conversation is the first step toward healing.”

“You think it’s that easy?” Shiro asks in disbelief.

"I know it is. What do you think my mom and I did after we saw each others memories? She saw a lot of my childhood and everything I had to deal with growing up. It took me a while to open up, but things were so much easier once I did."

He can imagine how difficult it must have been for Keith to navigate his old wounds and build a bridge between them. They managed to cross over it and have since created a loving mother-son relationship, the two of them doing all they can to make up for lost time.

“Guess that does make you an expert,” he murmurs, biting into his sandwich again. Shiro looks out into the horizon, the sky bleeding orange as the sun sets. He can feel Keith’s eyes on him, waiting.

“I’ll do it,” Shiro finally decides, even though his gut clenches at the thought. “I’ll talk to him. That’s going to make this relationship work, and I want it to work.”

“Good,” Keith says and goes back to his food. “I do, too. I want you to be happy.”

Shiro doesn't know how to respond to that. All he can do is offer up a smile. He's honestly surprised that someone cares about his feelings, but he also feels like he shouldn't be since it's _Keith._

It always seems like Keith is the first to consider Shiro’s feelings.

“If you’re looking for a job after the war, I think you’d make a pretty good therapist.”

“You’d probably be the only patient I have, Shiro. My tolerance of people can only go so far.”

They stay out in the desert until the sky darkens, revealing all the familiar glittering stars that Shiro hadn’t realized he missed. Shiro wraps the blanket around their shoulders when Keith sits beside him, both of them pointing out the constellations they have memorized and the directions of the other planets in the solar system.

It's funny how Shiro once believed there was more out there—different systems, stars, and planets all waiting to be discovered. Now, with his current experience of deep space, he wonders what else is out there. How many more systems? Planets? Alien races? How many different creatures and species?

He wonders, and he can’t wait for the day when he can go out there freely, without the fear of death at his heels.

Shiro imagines leaving Earth in the Atlas, or maybe in a ship of his own. He imagines reaching the deepest end of space and the thrill of discovery that always pulsed through his very soul. In this image that he’s created, he has someone by his side—the one person that’s always believed in him no matter the circumstances, who would stand with a hand on Shiro’s shoulder as they looked out into new and unfamiliar stars and still feel at home.

 

☆ ☆

 

Shiro finds Keith in the cafeteria a few days later, sitting at one of the tables in the corner with Griffin across him. He’s dressed in his casual clothes, but this time he’s wearing a red sweater instead of a jacket, and he’s missing his gloves. He lingers at the doorway, eyes caught on his best friend, and eventually shakes himself out of his stupor after three people bump into him.

Griffin says something to Keith, and a smile makes its way onto Keith’s face before laughter bursts out of him. The sound garners a few turned heads, a couple of them mystified and the rest staring with half-open mouths and red-stained cheeks.

He can imagine why they’d all be dumbfounded at the sight. A laughing Keith is as rare as witnessing a supernova in person, beautiful yet terrifying. The comparison fits all too well, and Shiro wonders if those that are hypnotized by Keith’s flame think the same thing.

He doesn’t doubt it.

Shiro’s noticed that Keith has been drawing a lot more attention since they arrived on Earth. He’s seen the looks that various people have tossed him and the way their eyes wander over his body. Has Keith noticed it yet? Has he considered finding someone for himself?

 _Questions for a later date,_ Shiro tells himself. He quickly makes his way over to their table after grabbing a bowl of mac cheese and a water bottle. Shiro slides into the empty space next to Keith and flashes a smile when he looks over.

“Keith,” he greets softly.

Keith smiles at him, a tiny little thing that makes his eyes light up like a nebula. “Shiro,” he says back, equally soft. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I was looking for you,” he tells him. Shiro glances over at Griffin, giving him a nod in greeting. “Griffin.”

“Admiral,” Griffin replies with a salute.

“You don’t have to do that every time you see me,” Shiro says, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. “You’re not a cadet, and I’m not an officer. We’re colleagues. We can keep it to last names, at the very least.”

“That’s fine by me… Shirogane,” Griffin speaks the last part hesitantly, eyes darting over to Keith and back. “I think I’ll head out, though. Kinkade wanted me to help him film the ongoings of life in the IGF-Atlas, and I don’t know when he wants to start.”

“Didn’t give you a time again?” Keith asks.

“Of course he did. You know how he gets when he’s distracted.” Griffin smiles openly at Keith, and actually reaches over to rest a hand atop Keith’s. “I’ll see you later, okay? Message me if you’re free.”

Keith nods and then Griffin is gone, placing his tray on top of the trash can before he walks out the doors.

Shiro lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, scooping up a forkful of mac and cheese to shove into his mouth. He doesn’t register the taste just yet, mind still fixated on the way Griffin acted with Keith, and it takes the second bite for his taste buds to dance over the cheesy goodness. With a happy hum, Shiro leans back against the wall and glances over at Keith.

“Are you two dating?”

 _I didn’t mean to ask that,_ Shiro thinks. He ducks his head, too embarrassed to even look at his friend. Is his mind trying to work against him (again)? By asking about something that’s not his business without his say-so?

“Nevermind,” he says quickly, seeing the confusion on Keith’s face when he peeks at him. “You don’t have to answer that. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I was just… surprised.” Keith is swirling his food around, staring down at it with a frown. “I don't know why you would think that, though. We're not dating. He's my friend. That's all.”

Shiro could list a few reasons, all based on what he's seen, but he doesn't want to think about it right now. He shakes his head and shoves more mac and cheese into his mouth. It gives him something to focus on, allowing him to ignore the uneasy silence that surrounds them.

"You said you were looking for me?" Keith suddenly asks. "Did you need me for something?"

“Oh, yeah!” Shiro washes his food down with a swig of water, eagerly eating more of it. God. It’s so good. “Are you busy today? I wanted to try something, and you’re the only one I trust to take me into deep space and bring me back without injury.”

“You just like the fact that I do tricks in the Black Lion,” Keith says accusingly, but there’s a spark of interest in his eye. “Why do you need to go into deep space?”

“The Olkari that are helping with the Atlas repairs are curious about the connection I have with her. They want to know how far that connection extends, and if I’m able to reach her out in space like you can with your Lion. I’ve been wondering about it, too.”

“Smart. That data will definitely help us.”

“Yeah. I wish I had thought of it sooner, though.”

“Hey, at least you’re doing it now, while we’re still grounded _and_ while you have the time to do it.”

They finish eating and head to the Paladin lounge to change into their suits. Keith peels off his sweater and tosses it onto one of the chairs once they get there, shirt riding up and exposing his toned stomach. The softness of it catches Shiro’s eye before he forces his gaze to the floor. Heat climbs up to his ears, and he hopes they aren’t as red as they feel.

“I’ll meet you in the hallway,” Shiro says quickly, vanishing into his room before Keith can reply.

 

☆ ☆

 

They’re drifting, moving past Mars. Shiro closes his eyes and tugs at his connection to the Atlas. A flood of warmth spills over the bond, telling him that she’s still on the other side. He draws back after that, and her awareness takes a seat in the back of his mind as Keith guides them deeper into space.

The lights of the Black Lion cast a purple hue onto Keith’s face, and it makes him look much softer than usual. Maybe it’s the way his hair curls around his face, or the awe that enters his eyes as he stares at the hulking shape of Jupiter.

“It’s nice out here,” Shiro comments quietly, nearly wincing when the peaceful air surrounding Keith becomes broken. He looks startled, and his expression shifts to embarrassment.

“Yeah, it is.” Keith grips the controls tighter and speeds up a little. “How’s the Atlas?”

“Still there,” Shiro answers, giving Keith’s shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll see soon enough how far the range is. Let’s stay at this pace so I don’t get distracted with your speeding,” he teases.

“Oh, please.” Keith rolls his eyes. “You’re just as bad as me.”

They stay quiet after that, Black humming around them. Shiro grips the back of the pilot’s chair and tentatively reaches out to her, only slightly disappointed to feel a barren space where the Lion once thrived.

He’s happy with the Atlas, but what he had with Black was exhilarating.

“Why would you think we’re dating?”

The question startles Shiro out of his reverie, glancing over at Keith in surprise. Keith’s eyes remain fixed on what’s ahead of him, but the slight tilt of his head shows that he’s awaiting an answer.

Shiro lets out a breath and forces the words out, “The way he looks at you.”

Black comes to a halt when Keith’s grip on the controls grow slack, an incredulous look on his face when he turns to Shiro. “What?” he asks, voice faint.

“You don’t see it?” Shiro asks, unable to contain his surprise. “He looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. It’s kind of, um… intense.”

“No, I… I haven’t noticed.” Keith crosses his arms and leans back against the seat, staring out into space once again. “Maybe you’re wrong, Shiro. Like I told you before, he’s my friend. Friends are all we’ve ever been.” He lets out a small scoff. “Why would you think we’re dating based on that? It’s not like I’m ‘looking’ at him or whatever.”

“Oh,” Shiro says, trying his hardest to not show that he’s relieved. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling this way. “Right.”

There’s a long, awkward pause that follows. Keith is staring at one of Black’s screens while Shiro continues to look at him. He should change the subject and put this conversation behind them, forget it ever happened. Shiro even goes so far as opening his mouth before he’s cut off by Keith’s curious inquiry:

“Do you actually think he likes me?”

Shiro suddenly regrets all his life choices. Is it possible to ask the Black Lion to take his soul back? Anything to avoid this conversation.

 _Don’t throw away what Keith gave back to you,_ Shiro’s inner voice argues heatedly.

He experiences some difficulty in trying to answer him, but the words eventually come out—like the overgrown roots of a tree, breaking through sidewalk at a chance for freedom. It’s also hard to admit, even when the truth is practically dancing in front of his eyes whenever he sees the two of them together.

“I think that he does, yes.”

“Ah,” Keith breathes with a thoughtful look and doesn’t say anything more.

Shiro’s connection to the Atlas grows weak when they pass Saturn, and disappears completely once they near Neptune. Keith takes them home after Shiro informs him of the results, and Shiro doesn’t attempt to start another conversation.

 

☆ ☆

 

It’s a Friday, and Shiro finds himself standing in front of the door to the Paladin lounge after a long day of repairs.

He’s mentally exhausted, and his body is aching as if he’d spent the whole day in the training room. Shiro was just about ready to drop into his bed when an alarm on his datapad went off, a reminder set by Keith to go to movie night. It took a while for Shiro to muster the energy to trudge his way over, but he discovers that it was a good idea to come when he steps inside.

“Shiro!” Pidge chirps, bounding over to grab his arm. She pulls him in the direction of the couch. There's also a pile of cushions in the center of the room. “You’re just in time! We’re about to pick a movie!”

“And the pizza rolls are done!” Lance points at the plates that are on top of a coffee table, a bowl of popcorn in his lap. “We have other things too! I recommend the pizza rolls, though. They’re God’s gift to humanity, I swear.”

“You’re wrong,” Hunk retorts, throwing a wrapper at him. “Those frozen lumps have nothing on the homemade kind, and everyone knows it.”

While Lance and Hunk squabble over the pizza rolls, Shiro sinks onto the couch with a tired sigh. He accepts the juice pouch that Allura tosses over, poking the straw in and taking a sip as he casually glances around the room.

There’s a stack of movies on the floor, Pidge and Lance’s game console, two buckets of popcorn, several plates of assorted snacks on a different table, and plenty of blankets and pillows to keep them all cozy as the night drags on. Shiro leans forward to snatch the grey one up, wrapping it around his shoulders as he idly does a headcount.

_1, 2, 3, 4…._

Shiro frowns and rubs at his eyes, looking around again to register to occupants of the room.

_Allura, Pidge, Hunk, Lance…._

“Where’s Keith?” he asks. “Is he going to be late? Maybe we should wait for him…”

“Ah, no. Keith can’t make it,” Allura says sadly. “He wanted to be here, he really did, but he had more important matters to attend to.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.” Shiro hopes his disappointment is well-hidden from his friends. “Hopefully he’ll be here next week, then. I’d hate to have another movie night without him.” He then adds jokingly, “He’s the one who got me hooked on them, after all.”

Two more weeks pass, and Keith still hasn’t come to movie night. Shiro caught glimpses of him all around the Atlas during that time, talking to Krolia and Kolivan or with Griffin in his orbit, but when he actively tries to seek him out he can never find him. It’s both annoying and worrying, and Shiro can’t even ask if something is wrong because he barely sees his best friend.

Shiro is in a sour mood by the third week, which vanishes the moment he walks into the Paladin lounge. Keith is sitting in the middle of the blanket pile with Kosmo in his lap. The wolf has his snout tucked beneath Keith's shirt, and his tail is swishing along the carpet. They're the only ones sitting in front of the TV.

Keith looks up when the door shuts behind Shiro, and his smile brightens the room. “Hey,” he says. “Glad you could make it.”

“I should be saying that to you,” Shiro replies happily, making his way around the couch. He carefully sits down beside him, mindful of Kosmo’s tail. “Where is everyone?”

"Lance forgot to grab the movies, so he went back to his room to get them. Pidge, Hunk, and Allura are trying to steal some pizza from the gathering outside," Keith answers and then shrugs. "It might take them a while, though. Everyone's been loving the local pizza. They won't let it go so easily."

“You know, we probably would have had it by now if you went with them,” Shiro says. “Being the space ninja-spy that you are.”

“I know,” Keith replies with a smirk. “But they have to learn how to do these things themselves. I can’t always be there for them to whisk away a box of pizza. Maybe we can consider it a team exercise.”

“Terrible,” Shiro teases with a playful shake of his head.

Kosmo snuffles and pokes his head out, looking at Shiro curiously. Shiro lavishes him with attention before the pleading puppy eyes can come out.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he says after a while, peeking over at him. Keith is idly running fingers through Kosmo’s fur, gently undoing knots. “How are you doing? Is there anything new happening in your life?”

“What’s with the awkward small talk?” Keith snorts. “I’m doing fine, just busy with a lot of stuff. That’s why I haven’t been around.”

“I figured.”

“I do have something to tell you, though.”

Shiro straightens at his words, catching the serious expression on Keith’s face. “What is it?” he asks worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I swear.” Keith pats Shiro’s knee, and the smile that flits across his face looks more nervous than anything. “Mom wants to find a permanent base on Earth for the Blades, so I’ve been helping her find one. We’ve been talking things over with the other members, deciding who will stay and who will be going on missions.”

“That’s great, Keith!” Shiro smiles brightly, and it’s returned half-heartedly.

“Yeah, I know. We’re all really happy about it,” Keith says, biting his lip. When he speaks again his voice is quiet, almost hesitant, “I’ll be moving out with them. Tomorrow night.”

Shiro freezes, and all he can say is, “Oh.”

Lost in his shock, he doesn't get the chance to say anything more because the door opens and their friends tumble in. They're carrying three boxes of pizza, a pack of cherry cola, and a stack of movies. Shiro and Keith's conversation ends with the promise of food and fun, but it's all Shiro can think about throughout the night.

 

☆ ☆

 

Saturday comes and lingers, Shiro watching the time drag on as his thoughts swirl around Keith.

He mostly thinks about the fact that Keith will be leaving with the Blades, how he won’t be on the Atlas like everyone else. Shiro knows that it’s a good thing, especially after seeing how happy Keith was about it, but it reminds him of Keith’s previous departure.

Will it be permanent this time? He has to know.

When Shiro arrives at the hangar that night, he can see about ten Blades grouped together near two large vehicles. Keith is standing by one of the MFE fighters with Kosmo at his side, a tiny smile on his face as he talks to Griffin.

He can’t hear their conversation, but he sees the long-lasting embrace between them. It makes his stomach twist strangely, especially when Keith pulls back and gazes at him softly.

Shiro's not the type of person to be possessive over certain things, especially people, but a large part of him wants to storm over and capture Keith's attention. He wants to turn it away from Griffin and have all that softness to himself like he used to. He wants to be the only one who gets those sort of looks from Keith; the only one who invokes such emotion from him.

He shoves it down, deep down, out of shame—hating himself for even thinking such a thing.

Shiro doesn't have the right to think this. Keith doesn't belong to him, so it's not fair of him to believe that everyone else is undeserving of his kindness or think he's entitled to all of Keith's time. Keith is his own person, and he can do whatever the hell he wants.

(A part of Shiro, the pettier part that continues to call the MFE Pilot ‘Griffin,’ still thinks it.)

Keith happens to look his way after Griffin leaves. There's a beat, and then Keith is waving him over. Aware that the Blades are watching, Shiro strides over to his friend. He takes in the bag that's hanging over Keith's shoulder and the pouch that's tied to Kosmo's back.

“Hey,” he says quietly, forcing a smile. “I came to see you off, I guess.”

“You guess?” Keith’s face is lit up with amusement. “Is that all?”

“No, uh….” Shiro rubs the back of his neck. “I wanted to talk to you, too.”

Kosmo stares up at Shiro with piercing eyes, causing his hair to stand on end. It’s an unspoken warning, the wolf telling Shiro that he’s got his eyes on him. Kosmo then turns to Keith and nuzzles his thigh once, disappearing in a flash of blue light and reappearing where the Blades are grouped up.

“Glad we have some privacy now,” Shiro tries to joke. It comes out a little too flat.

Keith looks at him in concern, and steps closer to place a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?” he asks in that soft voice of his. “I know I kinda sprung this on you….”

“I’m alright,” Shiro is quick to say, placing a hand over Keith’s and squeezing. “Really, I am.”

All he gets is a raised brow in response, which tells him that Keith clearly doesn’t believe him. Shiro doesn’t exactly want to delve into his true feelings, but he might have to for Keith.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I’m happy for you, I really am. It’s just that the idea of you leaving scares me.” Shiro lets out an empty laugh. “Maybe because I’m so used to having you by my side.”

“I know. I am, too. The thought of not being around you almost kept me from going, and it took a while for me to realize that I can’t let that stop me.” Keith smiles sadly. “We all have to move on at some point.”

“Yeah,” Shiro murmurs. He understands that sentiment.

“Besides, it’s not like I’ll be leaving forever,” Keith adds. “I’ll still be coming back to the Garrison and the Atlas for meetings, and for the Coalition. I know my role in this, and I know how important it is. The universe still needs Voltron, still needs _me._ I won’t abandon it.”

“I know you won’t,” Shiro says confidently, immediately cracked with vulnerability entering his voice when he says, “I’m still going to miss you.”

Keith’s whole face softens, and then Shiro is wrapped up in a tight hug. Warmth surges through his chest when he feels Keith’s face press against his shoulder, slotting into the place that has always been his. Shiro squeezes him gently and shuts his eyes, turning his head to bury his nose in Keith’s hair. He takes a deep breath, Keith’s natural scent calming his nerves.

“I’ll miss you too,” Keith says quietly, after turning his head to speak. Shiro almost shudders at the puff of air that ghosts over his throat. “I’m only one call away, though. I’ll come back whenever you need me.”

 _It’s not the same,_ Shiro thinks.

They pull away from each other, standing so close that Shiro’s mind starts to get away from him with thoughts that were once a reality. He could easily lean down and press their lips together like this—swallow the sweet noise that Keith usually makes when he’s kissed, lick into his mouth while heat builds between them. He could bring him back to the room, and they can fuck through the night, stay in bed so Keith doesn’t have to go.

Keith steps back, hefting the bag up higher onto his shoulder. Shiro feels a twinge of disappointment that's immediately followed by shame, belatedly remembering that he’s dating Adam now. He can’t do any of that anymore.

What’s wrong with him?

“I gotta go,” Keith says.

“Alright,” Shiro replies, forcing himself to smile. “Message me when you’re all settled, yeah? Give me updates on the Blades as well. I want to know how things work out.”

“Of course,” Keith says with a nod. “I’ll see you around, Shiro.”

And then Keith walks away from Shiro, off with the Blades once again. Before, he remembers being immensely proud of Keith for striking out on his own—supportive, in the way that people rarely were for Shiro. He was also a bit sad to see him go, but he understood the importance of wanting to be around people that could give him an insight into his heritage.

Right now he feels the same—pride for Keith’s comfort in his identity and how much he’s grown into the role of a leader, support for his decision (as always), and…

His sadness nearly outweighs it all.

What Keith is doing is important, he knows that. The Galra are unfamiliar with the planet they’re on and they need a guide, someone who can show them how to live here, and also be the link between them and the people of Earth. Keith is the perfect person for the job, of course; there’s no one better for it.

(Shiro also gets the strange sensation that he’s losing his best friend.)

He waves at Keith when he climbs into the car, watching it until it’s a faint dot in the distance. Shiro only leaves when he can no longer see it, the hangar doors closing as he starts making his way toward his room. His clothes are haphazardly tossed to a corner once he’s in, blankets cocooning him when he slips into bed.

Grief weighs him down, and not even the promise of seeing Adam in the morning is enough to uplift him. His datapad buzzes on the nightstand, but he’s hurting too much to care about whoever’s trying to contact him.

He feels like he’s fallen out of orbit, gravity wreaking havoc on him as he plummets. There’s no longer a sun to spin around, no longer a light to guide him home.

“Miss you already,” he whispers into the dark, reaching out to touch the empty space beside him. The sheets are cold beneath his fingers, and there’s no proof that it ever belonged to another person.

As gently as possible, Shiro slowly rolls himself onto that side. He buries his face into the pillow and swears he catches faint traces of Keith’s scent.

When he finally drifts off, he dreams of fading stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Gonna start off by saying.... I'M SORRY I TOOK SO LONG. I was really busy with school, and it took a while for me to edit also because of school. I've already started planning out what I'm gonna do next (it's a surprise), but I hope you enjoy this chapter :)! I'm pretty happy with it.
> 
> Thank you, Aki and Feather for looking this over for me. Don't know where I'd be without you two.
> 
>  **WARNINGS:** nothing, really. More changes happen to Keith's body. There's an ultrasound. Some Jeith. That's really all I can think of, but if I missed anything that you think deserves a warning please let me know!

This is how his day ends.

Keith racing across the desert on his hoverbike, with the wind whipping his hair back and the sun setting behind him. He swerves to enter a path that leads into the town ahead of him, slowing as he drives through the streets. Keith passes by several vendors, and he’s suddenly very thankful for his mother’s suggestion to wear his Marmora mask for this trip.

He’d rather not be recognized (or followed, like his _fans_ tend to do whenever they spot him out in public).

Keith slows down further when he turns into an empty street, scanning the cracked buildings for the correct address. Once he finds it, he follows a sign that leads to a small parking lot located behind the building.

He shuts off the hoverbike and retracts his mask, sliding a pair of sunglasses onto his face. Keith then hops off the vehicle, wobbling where he stands. He ends up with his hands on his knees, head bent low as he fights the urge to vomit. When he can no longer resist, he stumbles over to the closest trash can and lets it all come out.

“Gross,” he mutters hoarsely, spitting into the trash. He pulls a napkin out of his jacket pocket and wipes his mouth, tossing it in afterwards. Keith walks away once he's sure he won't vomit again, opening his side pouch to take out his packet of mint strips. With the taste of mint overcoming the bitterness on his tongue, Keith enters the building feeling much better than before.

A bell chimes the moment he steps through the doors, which alerts the woman at the front desk. She greets him with a bright smile and a cheerful, “Welcome to the Family Care Clinic!”

There are four other people in the room, seated on different chairs that are lined up against the wall. They glance up at him, eyes sweeping over his form, and then go back to reading the magazines splayed across their laps.

Keith slowly makes his way over to the counter, stomach churning with nerves. “Hi,” he says, a little awkward and unsure. Keith rarely came to places like this, and whenever he did, his father did all the talking for him. The perks of being a child. “I, uh. I have an appointment at six?”

“Alright!” She turns toward the computer beside her, fingers flying over the keys. “Last name?”

“Kogane,” Keith answers quietly.

She stops typing, glancing at him with wide eyes, and Keith knows that she recognizes him. He's pleasantly surprised when she hums and resumes her task instead of pushing for his time like he expected.

“I see your appointment right here,” she says, grabbing a clipboard off the wall and sliding it in front of him. "I need you to sign in so we can have confirmation of your arrival in our records." Here, she winks. “You can just sign your first name, though, and no other information is needed.”

Keith frowns. “Really?”

“Really.” She smiles. “Our clinic prides itself in keeping our patients’ information confidential, and you’re pretty popular. I’d rather not risk the next person obtaining your details because you were forced to write it down.”

“Thanks,” he says, relieved. He didn’t even think about that being a possibility.

Keith signs his first name and hands the clipboard back. She takes it and asks him to wait one extra moment, digging through the drawers behind her.

As he stands there, waiting, there’s a noticeable _shift_ that Keith feels in his eyes. It’s something a normal person probably wouldn’t think twice about, but Keith has become _very_ attuned to his changing body these days.

He slides his sunglasses down his nose and quickly peeks at his reflection in the nearby mirror. His breath hitches at the sight of slitted pupils, purple iris, and yellow sclera—his ‘Galra eyes,’ which refuse to go away no matter how many times he blinks. Keith also notices he can see every dust particle floating in the air, the arches and loops in the smudged fingerprints on the mirror, and the ridges on the wall beside him.

The sound of a drawer closing forces him to push his glasses back up, friendly smile in place when the lady at the counter turns back around.

“Here you go!” she says cheerfully, holding out a few pamphlets. “There should be some general information in there, along with dietary plans and the prenatal vitamins you’ll need. The doctor will call you in shortly, so please take a seat.”

“Thanks,” Keith says, accepting the colorful papers before walking over to the plastic chairs. He chooses the red one in the corner, only because it's farthest away from everyone else. Once he sits down, he tips his head back against the wall and closes his eyes.

Looks like there are more changes than just the life growing inside him.

 

☆ ☆

 

“I suggest removing your jacket,” the doctor says as she leads him into one of the rooms. She walks over to one of the cabinets and pulls out a towel, handing it over. “Lie down on the bed and place this over your lap, then I need you to pull your pants down until they’re beneath your hips.” She looks over at him, a kind smile on her face. “Is this your first time doing this sort of thing?”

Keith chuckles wryly. “That obvious?”

“A little, but you don’t have to worry. If you’re concerned about something, then all you need to do is ask, and I’ll explain it to you.” She sits down in a rolling chair in front of some strange equipment attached to a large monitor. “Take your time. I’m just setting up the program.”

He smiles to himself and goes through with her instructions, content with his decision to come all the way out here. Keith could have easily gotten all this done on the Atlas, but he didn’t want to risk Shiro finding out about the baby—not while Shiro’s still with Adam.

After he’s lying down, Keith watches the doctor grab a bottle and give it a shake before squeezing it above his stomach. Thick, clear gel slowly dribbles out, and he jumps a little when it finally touches his skin. He’s surprised that it’s warmer than expected.

His reaction makes the doctor laugh.

“No matter the temperature of the gel, everyone reacts the same way,” she says. She grabs a small object off the side of the cart, one that’s connected to the monitor on top, and uses it to smear the gel across his abdomen.

“What’s that?” he asks curiously.

“We call it a transducer probe,” she answers, pressing down harder. Keith shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t protest. “It produces sound waves that bounce off the area we’re scanning and receives the echoes, which are then sent to the computer to be used to create the sonogram.” She turns her head and taps on a few keys on the keyboard in front of her. “It's old tech, I know, but there are a lot of people who like having physical copies of their results.”

“Can I still get it digitally?” Keith wonders.

“Of course. We can’t exactly provide a physical file of your child’s heartbeat, after all.”

His attention is directed to the screen as she begins moving the probe across his stomach. At first, there’s only darkness, until the doctor presses down more firmly, and then a grey blob appears.

“There it is,” the doctor says softly, pointing at the large grey circle on one end. “See that right there? That’s your baby’s head.”

He lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, staring wide-eyed at the monitor. Tears well up in his eyes, and Keith has the urge to reach out and brush his fingers over the image—as if that’ll reinforce the truth in what he’s seeing.

The doctor taps on another key and drags the wand down further. She points at something far beneath the head, which flutters like a hummingbird's wings, and then turns the knob on one of the speakers. A new sound fills the room, and it takes his breath away.

(He wishes Shiro were here to hear it.)

It’s a repeating sequence— _womwomwomwomwomwomwomwom_ —and it’s so loud in the silence.

“Heartbeat,” the doctor murmurs.

Keith lets out a watery laugh as the tears finally spill over and trickle down his cheeks, blurring the image of the black-and-grey mass. He’s smiling wide enough for his cheeks to hurt, the steady heartbeat filling his ears.

“That’s my baby,” he breathes in awe.

His chest goes tight with a powerful feeling of love. It rushes through him, pure and warm, and cocoons itself around the place in his heart that he made for his unborn child. Keith directs his gaze to the ceiling when he becomes completely overwhelmed, covering his face with both hands as he silently cries.

Keith’s the happiest he’s ever been.

 

☆ ☆

 

“So, why’d you call us all here?”

Keith glances up at Lance, who sits across him with an air of impatience. He bites back his smile and shakes his head, looking down at his datapad as he scrolls through his files to find what he wanted to share.

“Aww, come on!” Lance whines, slumping on the table. “Can’t you tell us what it is? We’ve been waiting for so long!”

“What’s the point of a surprise if you aren’t surprised?” Keith asks dryly, and adds, “Also, it’s only been five minutes.”

“I’m honestly more curious about your eyes right now,” Pidge admits. She’s lying on top of the table, eyes flicking from the datapad to his face. “They’re very Galra-like today. Is that a new thing? Can you change them at will? Is this feature here to stay?”

“Kinda new, and no,” Keith answers, flashing a quick smile. “They changed the other day and have yet to shift back, so I'm guessing they're here to stay.” He resists the urge rub at them, a little self-conscious. “Why? Do they look bad?”

“Nah,” Pidge says with a flippant wave. “I think they look pretty cool. Honestly? You look more _you_ with your Galra eyes.”

“I have to agree,” Allura says from her seat beside Lance. “I do wonder if you could learn to change them at will, though. They were human-like before, so it might be possible for you to revert back to them whenever you like.”

“Humans don’t really work like that,” Hunk points out. He’s sitting on Lance’s other side, tinkering with an old communicator. “And Galra don’t either, right?” He directs this last question to Krolia, who’s leaning against the wall beside them.

“No,” she replies. “Unless you’re of mixed blood and the non-Galran side has shapeshifting abilities, of course.”

“They look nice,” James whispers from beside Keith, grin in place when Keith looks over at him. “You still kept your eye color, too. I’ve always liked it.”

Keith feels a strange flutter in his chest, which causes him to smile helplessly in return. “Thanks,” he murmurs, shifting closer to bump their shoulders together. “I was honestly a little worried about them, considering how most of the public feels about us Galra, but people have either been kind or haven’t noticed the difference.”

“You? Worried? The guy who never gave a crap about what other people thought about him?” James snorts, tugging on a strand of Keith’s hair. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

He smacks James’ hand away and rolls his eyes. “You’re annoying,” he tells him, no heat to his words. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

James laughs in response.

“They do know that we’re here, right?” Keith hears Hunk ask in an exaggerated whisper.

Keith rolls his eyes again and turns his attention back to the datapad, finally finding the file. He presses play and sets it down on the table, leaning back against the chair as he waits for the sound to start. All of his friends scoot in closer, eyes bright with excitement.

The sound of a heartbeat fills the room, bringing tears to Keith's eyes. Krolia gasps and when Keith glances over, he feels a surge of warmth over the way she's beaming at him. The others release their own sounds of surprise, voices overlapping as they congratulate him (and, in Coran and Hunk’s cases, cry a little).

James suddenly drapes an arm across his shoulders, pulling him closer to his warm body. Keith laughs and nudges him with an elbow, accepting the half-hug with a smile. He gives Keith a gentle squeeze and promises to message him later before taking off. Keith’s sad to see him go, but James has training with his teammates to get to, and he hates being late.

Keith plays the audio again at the request of his mother, relaxing as the sound washes over him. It’s comforting in a way he can’t quite explain, bringing him a quiet joy that lingers. He played it several times last night while he was in bed, letting that feeling encompass him as the small, steady beat lulled him to sleep.

His treacherous mind reminds him of similar nights, the ones where his head rested on a plush chest, and he shared his bed with another. The sound of Shiro’s heartbeat, loud and yet soothing to his ear, quickly became a rhythm that would drag him to the realm of sleep.

He shakes himself from these thoughts and focuses on the audio. It beats rapidly, as it always does, and listening to it soothes the old hurt in his heart.

 _That’s my baby,_ Keith thinks with a soft smile.

“What are you guys listening to?” Shiro’s voice suddenly says from behind them, shattering the peace that had overtaken the room.

Almost everyone starts. Lance bangs his knee against the bottom of the table, Pidge nearly tumbles off the top, and Allura’s chair falls back onto the carpet when she stands up too fast. Keith is surprised to see Shiro in this room, but considering they've commandeered one of the few meeting rooms in the Atlas, he probably shouldn't be.

In the silence that follows, the sound that’s playing off Keith’s datapad is unmistakable.

Shiro frowns and leans over Keith’s shoulder. “Is that a heartbeat?”

“Uh, yeah,” Keith stupidly answers. “A fetal heartbeat.”

“Really?” Shiro’s looking at him all wide-eyed. “Whose baby?”

Panic claws at Keith's throat as his pulse races in fear, and everyone else seems to be in a similar state. His eyes flick all around the room, trying to come up with a story as fast as possible. When his gaze lands on his Krolia, he ends up blurting out, “Mom’s pregnant!”

Shiro stares at him with a dumbfounded expression, which transforms into a bright grin when he looks over at Krolia. “Wow, congratulations!” he says. “You must be happy!”

A beat.

Krolia meets Keith's eyes for a second before she nods, wrapping an arm around her stomach. “Yes,” she says blandly. “I am with child.” She slowly sits down in the empty rolling chair beside him. “Thank you, Shiro. You’re right. I’m very happy with the discovery.”

A hand covers Keith's shoulder and gives it a squeeze. He looks up and sees Shiro smiling down at him before he asks, “You must be pretty excited, huh?”

Keith smiles back and looks down at his datapad, listening to the heartbeat play out all over again. His stomach erupts with butterflies, chest warm as he traces over the wavelengths that appear on the screen.

“I am,” he says softly. “More than you know.”

 

☆ ☆

 

Later that week, Keith is in the Paladin lounge getting comfortable for their weekly movie night. He’s putting together a pile of blankets and cushions at one corner of the couch when Lance walks in with their food.

Keith makes a new discovery about his pregnancy.

He read about how certain foods can make a pregnant individual nauseous by the smell alone. Keith thought nothing of it at the time, foolishly thinking that it wouldn’t happen to him, and now he’s sitting on the couch with his head between his knees after he got a huge whiff of the garlic bread that Lance brought.

There’s a hand on his shoulder. “Keith?” Hunk’s worried voice. “What’s wrong?”

“The smell,” he groans, shutting his eyes. Kosmo squeezes his head into the space between his chest and his knees, and Keith focuses on his soft fur so he doesn't have to think about that god awful smell. “S’gonna make me sick…”

“Whoa, really?” Pidge’s voice, suddenly right by him—and with it comes the stench that makes his stomach churn dangerously. She probably has a piece of garlic bread with her.

Keith gags, and then he’s on the other side of the room thanks to his teleporting space wolf. The smell starts to permeate the room, but it’s not as strong where he's currently sitting. He can at least lift his head to weakly glare in Pidge’s direction, a bitter taste lingering in the back of his throat.

“Yes, really,” he grits out, breathing through his mouth now. “Get it out of here, _please._ And don’t order it anymore.”

“But…” Pidge looks so distraught. “You like garlic bread, too…”

“Pidge, I really am _this_ close to hurling.” Keith lifts a hand, pinching his index finger and his thumb together. There’s only a sliver of space. “I may have liked it before, but today I don’t.” He pauses and grimaces, waiting for the next wave of nausea to pass. “It’s a pregnancy thing,” he adds, thumping on his chest with a fist as he fights the urge to burp.

“A food aversion, right?” Lance suddenly asks, arms crossed and brows furrowed. “My aunt had a couple with the last baby. The worst one was for meat. We couldn't even have it in the house or else she'd be sick for _hours._ It sounds like it sucks.”

Keith relaxes a little, comforted by the fact that someone understands. “Yeah,” he murmurs, covering his nose. The smell is getting worse, and Keith is starting to get dizzy.

“Alright.” Lance walks over to Keith’s side and pats his back. “Maybe you should take Kosmo for a walk, buddy. We’ll air out the room while you’re gone, and one of us will call you back when it doesn’t smell as bad anymore. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great,” Keith says quickly, and then dashes out of the room with Kosmo at his heels. The moment he steps out, he bumps into a firm wall—an apt description for Shiro’s chest.

“Sorry!” he says, sliding out from between the door and Shiro. Keith puts a moderate amount of distance between them, offering a strained smile. The queasy feeling hasn’t died down yet, and if he’s going to vomit, he’d rather be far away from Shiro. “I’ll be right back,” he tells him. “I have to go do something first.”

“Is everything alright?” Shiro asks, looking concerned.

 _Why do you have to be so_ nice _?_ Keith thinks, a little miffed, and drops a hand to pet through Kosmo’s fur. The irritation fades almost immediately, knowing that Shiro’s just worried about his friend.

“I’m not feeling too hot,” he admits. “I thought some fresh air might do me good.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Keith grimaces internally, catching a glimpse of Shiro’s hopeful expression. It almost hurts to see just how eager Shiro is to spend time with him, like nothing ever happened between them and their friendship is still the same as ever. He also kind of hates how weak he is over it, which is why he eventually nods in acquiescence.

He could never deny Shiro a thing.

“So, how are things with the Blades?” Shiro asks once they’re outside. The corner of his mouth lifts. “Are they still fighting about what color they should paint the walls? You ranted about that the other day.”

“Yup. They still can’t decide what they want.” Keith sighs and shakes his head. “Whenever they ask for my opinion, I just point to a random color.” He tries not to smirk. “It always sends them into _another_ argument, and then I’m left alone for a few hours.”

“Until the cycle starts again,” Shiro says, a hint of a laugh lurking in his voice. “You know, you can be pretty evil when you put your mind to it.”

“That wasn’t evil!” Keith says with mock indignation. “That was just me having some fun.”

This time, Shiro does laugh. “What’ll be next on the agenda? You guys already went through choosing dishes and utensils, and now you're on the paints.” He hums. “Maybe furniture will be next?”

“We actually started getting some in-between the paint arguments,” Keith replies with a laugh of his own. “Some new, some old. They’re all having a fun time trying to put together the new furniture. It’s pretty entertaining to watch.”

“ _Evil,_ ” Shiro stresses, and Keith laughs louder. “Also, hey. Your eyes are different.”

“Really,” Keith replies dryly. “You don’t say.”

Shiro rolls his eyes and knocks their shoulders together, a charming smile on his face. “They look nice,” he says. “Maybe the others already told you, but they really suit you. It kinda adds to the overall look.”

“Thanks,” Keith says slowly, struck dumb by the compliment and the mere sight of Shiro’s smile. He shakes himself from his stupor when it all registers, not bothering to hide his confusion. “Overall look?” he asks. “What do you mean by that?”

“I really don’t know how to explain it,” Shiro says apologetically. “I only noticed it recently. There’s just something about you, Keith. An energy, maybe, that makes you seem a little brighter.” His chuckle sounds a bit sheepish. “It’s almost like you’re glowing.”

“Thank you…?” Keith tries, not really sure he understands.

They stop at one of the empty benches between the Atlas and the Garrison, near the greenhouses. Kosmo rushes off to sniff at the bushes just outside the buildings, leaving Keith and Shiro to sit together.

The silence that follows is oddly comfortable, no words needed as they relax together. Keith can’t help but think about how much he missed _this—_ the two of them talking about nonsense and hanging out together outside of work, acting the way best friends should. Most of all, he _misses_ Shiro. He misses having Shiro beside him, always having his presence in his life.

This distance that Keith forced upon them caused an ache to form in his heart. It calls out to Shiro no matter how many times he tries to snuff it out. No matter how much he pretends, a part of him is always going to want Shiro near.

Being in love with Shiro isn’t easy. Trying to get over that love is even harder.

It certainly doesn’t help the late night thoughts, when he’s feeling particularly lonely and pathetic. Some nights, he imagines an alternate reality where he wasn’t stupid enough to keep his feelings a secret, where Shiro actually felt the same. In this fantasy, Shiro’s happy about their baby, they’ve settled nicely in Keith’s apartment, and Shiro loves Keith as much as Keith loves Shiro.

 _If only,_ Keith thinks forlornly.

Shiro cuts through his thoughts with a question that causes Keith to freeze up, a bolt of panic shooting down his spine and heart racing in fear:

“How’s the baby?”

The queasy feeling makes a return as he wonders how in the hell Shiro found out about the baby. His vision dims, the panic making his head feel light, and he quickly tries to get his emotions under control after Kosmo trots over and nips at his hand.

“Fine,” Keith eventually rasps out. He clears his throat and stares down at his lap, waiting for the anger that’s sure to come. “Just fine.”

“You think you’re ready to be a big brother?” Shiro asks, and then laughs quietly. “Of course you are, I don’t even know why I ask. I already know you’re going to put your all into being the best sibling.”

Big brother. _Big brother._

 _Right,_ Keith thinks in relief. _He still thinks my mom is pregnant._

He rests a hand on his stomach, over the tiny bump that’s hidden beneath his Garrison jacket, and smiles to himself. Keith tips his head back to look at the stars, happy that his secret is still safe.

 

☆ ☆

 

As time passes, there are more changes to Keith’s body.

The eyes are definitely a permanent feature at this point, and Keith’s inordinately pleased with the fact. He hadn’t expected anything else to change, so when he woke up one morning with prickling gums, he thought nothing of it. They bugged him for the next three days, but eventually, it became a sensation he got used to and he ended up forgetting about it.

It comes up when he's having lunch with his team a couple of days later. Keith’s preparing to tear into his burger, wanting to sate his meat craving, when Hunk makes an unintelligible exclamation. Hunk’s fingers pinch at his cheeks and stretches them out wide enough to expose his teeth.

“Wha’ are you doin’?” Keith manages, instinctively flinching away when a finger presses down on his canine. He shoves Hunk’s hands away and scowls, reaching up to rub at his aching cheeks. Hunk really has a strong grip. “Hey!”

“Your teeth are sharper,” Hunk says, and frowns. “Haven’t you noticed?”

“My teeth are _what?_ ” Keith runs his tongue over his teeth, and sure enough, some are sharper than they were before. Actually, it feels like he has— “Fangs,” Keith realizes with shock. “I have fangs now?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Lance asks. “They’re _your_ teeth. You think you’d notice…”

“I don’t know, Lance!” Keith retorts with fake pep. “Maybe because I’ve been so focused on the other changes going on in my body! It also never occurred to me to think, ‘hmm, I should keep an eye out for the fangs that I’ll grow!’” He scoffs and _finally_ bites into his burger, enjoying the way his (new) teeth tear it apart with ease.

“How can he sound so nice and so mean at the same time?” Allura asks in a dramatic whisper.

“I don’t know, but I love it,” Pidge whispers back.

Keith ignores them, keeping his eyes on Lance while he continues to eat his burger.

“Okay, _okay._ I get it. I’m sorry, man.” Lance holds up both hands in surrender, wide-eyed and nervous. “But maybe you _should_ be thinking about it,” he says. “First it was your eyes, and now it’s your teeth. Don't you think you should look into it? I mean, what if your hair turns purple next!”

“Then my hair turns purple,” Keith replies with a shrug.

“It’s not your color!” Lance insists. “You’ll look terrible!”

“He’s seen Keith in the Blades suit, right?” Allura asks Hunk, still loud enough for Keith to hear. “I know the rest of us have, but maybe it didn’t register for Lance? We all know how good he looks in purple, in that suit, and his fans vehemently agree.”

“That’s not on his head! And the suits are hardly even purple! The only thing that’s purple are the glowing line thingies on his chest! The rest of the suits are just shades of blue and grey!” Lance says indignantly, dropping his head down onto the table. “Can’t you guys help me out here? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Pidge says with a contemplative hum. “I mean, it might look weird since he still looks human—”

“Yes!” Lance does a fist pump.

“—but it also might not. I mean, he is part-Galra. The purple hair would probably fit his whole look, just like his eyes and teeth do.” Pidge shrugs, taking a sip of her sweet tea. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, Lance.”

“Forget it,” Lance says, sounding defeated. “Forget I said anything.”

“Are you going to eat that?” Keith asks, pointing at Lance’s burger. He doesn’t bother contributing to the conversation, because he really has no opinion on his own hairstyle and he doubts it’ll turn purple anyways. When Lance says nothing, Keith snatches up the burger and chows down. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Lance says dully.

“Lance _was_ right about one thing,” Allura comments when Keith is halfway through his food. He glances over, waiting for her to continue. “I do believe you should look into why these changes are occurring, Keith. The Blades might have some information for you.”

“Doubt it,” Keith mutters, frowning down at his tray. “No one else is like me.”

“They’re still Galra,” she points out. “Anything is better than nothing, correct? It’s possible that some of them may have had similar experiences throughout, er, _you know._ ” She smiles. “Perhaps Krolia can offer some insight?”

Keith sighs. “You make a good point,” he admits reluctantly. The thought of asking his mother pregnancy related questions is a little embarrassing, but the fact that he gets to _feel_ embarrassed over such a thing nearly makes him smile. “I’ll talk to her later this week,” he decides. “She’s been busy training some of the newer recruits.”

Except, Keith doesn’t get the chance to talk to her.

Team Voltron spends the majority of the week visiting planets in the closest system. They team up with the Rebels to drop off supplies that the occupants desperately need, and help create trade outposts with the Olkari so the planets can help each other out whenever it’s needed.

Allura handles the diplomatic talks with the planets’ leaders, while the rest of the team encourages Keith to engage with the locals. He tries not to feel irritated at their suggestion, knowing that it only comes out of concern. Their quintessence is required to form Voltron and use its many abilities. None of them know if it might affect the baby in some way.

Piloting Black might also be a risk, but Keith’s noticed the careful focus that the Lion puts forth when she reaches for _his_ quintessence—as if she, too, would rather not chance it.

 _Better safe than sorry,_ Keith thinks. Black rumbles her approval in the back of his mind, sending a rush of warmth through their bond. It makes Keith smile, happy that Black seems to enjoy the idea of Keith bringing a new life into this world.

“Mr. Keith?”

Shaken out of his thoughts, Keith looks down to the speaker and offers a smile. “Sorry about that,” he says, crouching down to their level. Somehow, the moniker ‘Mr. Keith’ has spread to children outside of Earth. “I was just talking to the Black Lion.” He taps the side of his head. “She needed to tell me something.”

The kid's six eyes go wide, awe entering their face. "Really?"

“Really,” Keith says, his smile growing wider. “I’d never lie to you, alright?” He stands up and holds out a hand, waiting for the child to take it with one of their own. “How about we go visit the Black Lion?”

As they walk together, Keith feels some of his worries chip away. The knowledge that these kids seem to like him and trust him is comforting, and it boosts his confidence over the impending future.

If he can be good with children around the world then maybe, just maybe, he’ll be good with his own.

 

☆ ☆

 

“Ears!”

“What?” is all Keith can say before Allura grabs his head. He doesn’t even try to move while she turns it this way and that, her eyes bright with excitement. Keith feels a finger glide over the tip of his left ear and fights the urge to squirm, carefully yanking his head back to feel it for himself.

“Huh,” Keith says, poking at the pointed tip. “Interesting.” He hadn’t even noticed that they changed.

“That’s all you have to say?” Allura says, sounding disgruntled. “Don’t you like them?”

“Ignore her,” Pidge cuts in, rolling her eyes. “Our simple human ears are too ugly for her, remember? She’s happy that you’re not ugly anymore.”

“That’s not true!” Allura exclaims, swatting Pidge’s shoulder. “I just think it’s nice to have a close friend who matches with me, in a way.” She smiles serenely at Keith. “They fit you rather well, Keith.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Keith tucks his hair behind his ear and huffs, grumbling, “I hope nothing else changes.” He’s a little fed up and uncomfortable with the way his body’s changing without his say so, excluding the pregnancy.

“You’re gonna talk to your mom soon, right?” Pidge asks.

Shiro walks into the room as she's asking the question, a frown on his face. “Talk to her about what? Is something wrong?”

 _How the hell does he keep doing that?_ Keith wonders before looking over at Shiro, who’s leaning against the wall. “Nothing bad,” he says quickly, wanting to get rid of the concerned expression on Shiro's face. “I want to get her insight on my, er, new features.”

“New features,” Shiro says, sounding faint. He slips from his spot and stumbles forward, staring wide-eyed at Keith. “Right, uh. Teeth and ears. Yeah. I see them.”

Keith frowns and steps closer. “You okay?” he asks worriedly.

“Food’s here!” Lance suddenly exclaims, pushing past Shiro. He’s carrying three plastic bags, each containing two containers, and the smell that wafts off them is mouth-wateringly distracting. Keith barely manages to subdue his instinct to snatch it all away, watching Hunk and Lance unpack everything instead.

He takes his usual place at the loveseat after Hunk hands him one of the containers, his corner piled high with blankets and pillows. Keith arranged them himself, wanting everything to wrap around him while he watched the movie of the night.

Keith opens his container, and he’s pleased to see that over half of it is filled with meat. He digs into his meal eagerly, only lifting his head when the empty space beside him dips with a new weight.

“Hungry?” Shiro asks, openly amused.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to,” Keith answers after he’s swallowed his bite, flashing a quick grin. He eats at a slower pace, leaning back against the cushions as he gazes at his friend. Shiro keeps glancing over at him, and he seems embarrassed whenever their eyes meet.

“What?” he prods, nudging Shiro’s leg with his foot. “Is there something on my face?”

“Huh?” Shiro starts, cheeks blooming red. “No! Uh, I just keep noticing the teeth and the ears.”

Keith reaches up to brush a finger across the pointed tip of one ear, running his tongue over his sharp fangs. “Do they look weird?” he asks. “Everyone else says they don’t, but…” He shrugs.

“No, no! They look great! You look g-great, Keith. I mean it,” Shiro says with that same charming smile that Keith saw last week.

“Thanks,” Keith says, returning the smile. He drops his gaze to Shiro’s chest to avoid staring at him for too long. Knowing how Shiro feels about his new look makes him feel a bit better about himself. “I’m glad you don’t mind,” he adds, and then looks at the rest of his friends. “Thank you, really.”

“You’re our friend, Keith. We support you no matter what happens, and you don't have to thank us for speaking the truth!” Allura replies, sitting down in one of the chairs. “Has anyone else noticed your change in appearance?” she asks curiously.

“Has _James_ noticed?” Lance interjects, plopping down on the floor. “Has he offered any opinions? Compliments?” He waggles his eyebrows, leaning forward with an impish grin. “How _is_ James, anyways? You see him more than I do these days.”

Keith grabs one of his pillows and flings it at Lance’s head, finding immense satisfaction in his squawk when he falls over. “Shut up,” he says cheerfully, going back to his food. The tips of his (pointed) ears feel hot. “Why don’t you ask him yourself? He’s still on the Atlas.”

“He always disappears whenever I want to go talk to him,” Lance says from the floor. He’s lucky that Kosmo’s not here tonight (he opted to stay with James for some reason), or else his food would have been gone in seconds. “My guess is that he probably goes off to visit you.”

“Interesting theory,” Keith replies flatly. “Now, let’s move on and watch a movie like we’re supposed to be doing. I can’t stay for long, remember? I have an early meeting.”

“You’re staying on the Atlas, aren’t you?” Pidge asks while Lance is putting on the movie. When Keith nods, she pouts, “Then you should stay the whole night! We haven’t hung out in _ages…_ ”

“We hung out yesterday,” Keith points out. “We made rockets out of soda bottles.”

“Do you have somewhere to stay for the night?” Shiro asks suddenly. He’s been quiet for a while, Keith realizes. “Because if you don’t, you could stay with me?”

“Thanks for the offer,” Keith says, feeling awkward. “But I’m already staying with James for the night.”

“Oh,” Shiro says, and smiles again. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “Right, of course.”

“A sleepover, huh?” Lance says, already sitting back up and waggling his eyebrows again. “Gonna have a pillow fight and share the bed?”

Hunk, who was sitting near Lance, picks up the cushion that Keith threw earlier and smacks Lance upside the head with it. He shoots Keith a thumbs up while Lance is (dramatically) groaning in pain, and Keith smirks.

James _did_ offer Keith the bed, but Keith plans on keeping that tidbit to himself. He’s sure that if he mentioned it, Lance would spend the whole night teasing Keith about it. Not that it matters since Keith didn't even accept the offer.

He’ll be sleeping on the couch, and he also plans on stealing all of James’ extra blankets to make it more comfortable.

Keith glances over at Shiro while the movie is playing and notices his sullen look, nudging his leg again. “You okay?” he inquires when Shiro lifts his head, keeping his voice low.

“I’m fine,” Shiro says, a little too quick. “Just tired.”

A _lie._

“Alright…” Keith says, knowing when not to push. Still, he reaches out to gently squeeze Shiro’s bicep. “You can talk to me, okay?” He manages a small quirk of his lips when their eyes meet, tone light when he adds, “I’ll only charge 2,000 GAC an hour.”

Shiro snorts and laughs, causing the others to shush him. They do it again when Keith’s laughter joins, but Keith doesn’t care.

He’s just happy to see Shiro having fun.

 

☆ ☆

 

“James?” Keith calls out when he steps into the room. When he receives no response, he shrugs and peels off his jacket. He tries to be quiet, in case James is asleep, and is in the process of unzipping his boots when a sweet smell hits him. Keith leaves them by the door and follows the scent to the kitchen, where James is observing something in the oven.

“What are you doing?” Keith asks curiously, leaning against the island.

James shoots up with a surprised shout, whirling around to face Keith. His hair is in disarray, clothes all rumpled, and he has some flour smeared across his cheek. He’s also wearing a black apron that reads ‘The Kitchen Bitch,’ and there’s more flour splattered all over it.

“Keith!” James says with a smile. “I didn’t hear you come in, sorry.” He gestures toward the oven. “I was waiting for the pie to finish.”

“Pie?” Keith repeats incredulously. “At this hour?”

“It’s not that late, is it?” James laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks flushed, maybe from the heat in the kitchen. “You told me the other day that you wanted some pie, remember?” He crouches in front of the oven again, peering inside as he says, “It took me a few tries to get it right, but I think I finally got it.”

“You baked me a pie,” Keith says quietly, feeling warm all over. He turns away and covers his burning face, realizing that he’s grinning dopily. “You baked me a  _pie._ ”

Kosmo walks into the kitchen. There’s flour all over him as well, and some sections of his fur look clumped together. He sits down in front of Keith and greets him with a soft rumble, eyes closing in bliss when Keith starts scratching behind his ears.

“He baked me a pie,” Keith whispers to the wolf, who huffs indignantly. He laughs and pats his snout. “And you helped, I’m guessing? Thanks.”

“Yeah, sorry. Kosmo caught me after my second attempt and helped me sneak more ingredients to try again.” James laughs. “All I had to do was bake him some treats from the leftover pie crust.”

The oven dings after a while and James puts on some oven mitts, pulling out the pie. Keith’s mouth waters as the smell intensifies and his appreciation for James only grows stronger. He watches as James leaves the pie on the stove before moving to the island.

“I can't serve it yet,” James says apologetically. “It has to chill for a few hours.” He reaches past Keith to grab a container, dragging it closer. “I did make some cookies with the leftover pie crust from yesterday,” he says, pushing it towards Keith. “I hope that makes up for it.”

“‘Makes up for it?’” Keith huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “I would have been happy waiting for the pie.” He shakes his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “You didn’t have to make me something extra, you know.”

“I know,” James replies with a small, almost shy smile. “But I wanted to, just like I wanted to bake the pie for you.”

Keith’s smile lingers as he takes out one of the cookies, brushing a thumb across the icing on top. The design resembles the face of the Black Lion. When Keith bites into it, he gets a buttery cookie with just enough sweetness from the icing. He hums appreciatively, licking the crumbs off his lips before finishing off the rest of the treat.

“Good?”

“They’re amazing,” Keith replies, peeking at James as he grabs another cookie. Seeing the relief and joy on his face almost makes Keith laugh. Was he that worried about Keith’s opinion? “Thank you, James.”

“It was nothing,” James says with a wave of his hand, pink-cheeked. “I had a lot of help.”

“You still went out of your way to bake a lemon cream pie for me,” Keith points out after he finishes the cookie. “A craving I carelessly mentioned about a week ago.” He tilts his head, curious. “Why?”

“I like making you happy,” James replies. He says it in that open and honest way of his—as if it’s the only thing that matters.

Keith recalls the conversation he had with Shiro, how Shiro thought they were dating based on the way James was looking at him. He dismissed it pretty quick, telling Shiro that whatever he saw was only friendship, nothing more. Keith didn’t really give it much thought afterwards, forgetting about it as he moved on with his life.

Until now, with Keith standing in front of James. Now that he’s here, he sees what Shiro meant.

Now that he’s here, Keith is looking back.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks quietly.

James visibly swallows before nodding.

Keith moves closer to James, lifting a shaking hand and resting it on his chest. He can feel his fast-beating heart beneath his palm, and wonders if James can somehow hear the way Keith’s heartbeat matches the rhythm. His body feels hot, and his nerves are making his stomach flip, but Keith doesn’t let that stop him from tipping his head up to press their lips together.

They start with a chaste kiss and share a quiet, disbelieving laugh when they break apart. Keith’s eyes slip shut when he leans in again, the next kiss tentative and slow until he pushes to deepen it.

Hands grip his waist and tug him even closer to James’ warm body, causing him to shudder. Keith slides a hand up to grip the back of his neck, and James groans when he squeezes. Warmth begins to build in his gut as the kiss becomes more heated, sparks shooting down his spine when their tongues brush together.

He eventually pulls away with a gasp, breathing hard, and presses their foreheads together as he attempts to get himself back under control.

“Oh, wow.” Keith hears James breath, sounding dazed, and smiles.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, opening his eyes and leaning back to look at him. “Wow.”

James gazes at him with a soft smile, but there’s worry in his eyes. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks. “I know I’m not—” He cuts himself off, looking slightly embarrassed and ashamed.

Keith feels his own smile fade. “You’re not Shiro,” he finishes quietly.

James stays silent, and that really says it all.

“I don’t care,” Keith says bluntly. “I don’t want a Shiro. I want James Griffin.” He taps James’ chest. “I want _you,_ okay? And whatever happens between us, I need you to know that you’re _not_ a replacement.”

He sighs and shuts his eyes, trying to figure out the best way to get his point across.

“I’ve never been good with feelings,” he starts, and then adds wryly, “I think you know that.” Keith swallows and smooths down James’ apron, which he accidentally wrinkled with his grasping hand when they kissed. “All I can do is be truthful, and the truth is that… I do like you.” He ducks his head, cheeks warm. “Maybe it’s not as strong as what you feel for me, but the feelings are there. My feelings are real.”

“You really want this?” James asks, voice wavering.

 _You really want me?_ Keith hears.

Keith spreads his palm over James’ chest again, meeting his gaze. “Yes,” he says earnestly, watching as his cheeks darken. “I’m… coming to terms with the idea that I deserve good things, that I’m allowed to be selfish.” Keith says next, slow and soft. He tilts his head and presses a kiss to his jaw. “I’m letting myself be selfish now.” He drags his lips over to the corner of his mouth, planting another kiss there as he breathes, “I want you, so I’ll have you.”

“O-Oh.”

He stiffens and pulls away. “That’s okay, right?” Keith asks worriedly.

James is staring at him, looking rather flushed. He suddenly blinks and shakes his head, a smile stretching across his face. “More than, Keith.” His eyes flick down, and Keith swears his lips are tingling from that single look. “Can we kiss again?”

Keith is already nodding before he finishes the question.

(They share the bed that night.)

 

☆ ☆

 

“Euphoric Lilac looks nice, doesn’t it?”

“It looks like the one you just showed me, Mom.”

“Mauve Finery? No, they’re completely different! This one is darker! Can’t you tell?”

“Holding them beside one another only makes it clear that they're one hundred percent the same,” Keith replies blandly, barely glancing at the color palette cards in Krolia’s hand. He’s only messing with her, though. His ‘Galra eyes’ have gifted him with stronger vision, and he can see that Mauve Finery is slightly darker than the other (and much nicer). “Why do we even have to paint the room?”

“The walls are stained and dull,” Krolia answers, looking towards the blank wall. She holds up the cards and cocks her head to the side. “You and the baby deserve a bright, happy room while we're here. It also needs to look nice when we show it off during the baby shower.” She pauses. "I still don't quite understand why this 'shower' is happening now. Shouldn't it be after birth?"

“That’s not going to work on me,” Keith says, shaking his head.

Krolia turns and arches a brow. “Whatever do you mean by that?” she asks, in a tone so light that Keith _knows_ the innocence is fake.

“You pretend you don’t know about certain things from Earth to mess with my friends.” He crosses his arms, copying her expression. “Am I right or am I right?”

His mother bursts into laughter, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and dragging him in for a hug. Keith eagerly returns the embrace, burying his face in her shoulder with a happy sigh. Her laughter dies down, and then Keith is lulled into a doze when she gently brushes her claws through his hair.

“Sometimes, this feels like a dream,” Krolia murmurs after a while.

Keith frowns and tips his head back to look at her. “What do you mean by that?”

“The two of us, here and now,” she explains. “I had hoped that I’d come back to you, that I’d get the chance to be in your life again, and now that I’m here…” Krolia laughs, eyes shining a little. “It almost seems too good to be true. I’m afraid I’ll wake up, and I’ll be back on that base like these last few years never happened.”

“Mom,” Keith breathes, chest going tight. His eyes grow damp, and he blinks away the unshed tears as he squeezes her tightly. “I’m right here, Mom. I’m not going anywhere, I swear,” he murmurs. “We’ll never be apart again.”

“I know,” Krolia says softly. “I’ll make sure of it.” She gazes at him with a loving smile, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ears. He watches as her face brightens, and he lets out a huff of laughter when she drags the pad of her thumb across one of the pointed tips.

“When did this happen?” she asks.

“A while ago,” Keith answers, another laugh escaping. She keeps stroking his ears and apparently, he’s ticklish there. “I forgot to ask—do you know what’s happening to me? Why are these features are popping up now?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Krolia replies, dropping her hand to squeeze his shoulder.

“Damn,” Keith mutters, trying not to sound disappointed. “I was hoping you’d have an actual answer.”

“You have to understand, Keith. You’re the only known case of a human-Galra hybrid, so we don’t have much to go on,” she says regretfully, and sighs. “Galra features are usually dominant in most hybrids. It's possible that your pregnancy is causing them to appear.” Krolia taps his ear. “Do you not like them?”

Keith considers the question, moving toward the mirror that’s propped up against the wall. He scrutinizes the new changes, turning his head from side to side to get a view of himself in different angles. The longer he looks, the more he thinks about how _natural_ the Galra features seem. It’s as if he’s looked this way his whole life.

“I like them,” he finally decides, and then pauses. Keith turns to face Krolia, feeling shy, and asks, “What do you think?”

“I love them,” Krolia replies warmly, beaming at him. She moves closer and glides a finger over his ear again. Keith feels it twitch in response, and she laughs. “I think they’re cute.” She taps his eyebrow next. “You’re cute.”

Keith instantly flushes. “I’m not cute!” he whines, just because he can. It’s an exhilarating feeling, to act a bit like a child with his mom ( _his mom!_ ). Krolia keeps smiling, moving her hand up to ruffle his hair despite his protests (he secretly loves it).

“The cutest,” Krolia declares. “Don’t argue with me over this, especially when I’m one hundred percent right.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith grumbles, ducking his head to hide his happy grin.

A flash of blue light signals Kosmo's entrance into the room. Keith holds out a hand, sinking it into the wolf’s fur after he makes his way over to Keith's side. Kosmo shakes his head when Keith tries to pet him, turning his body so the pouch strapped to his back is in view.

“Making a delivery?” Keith asks, removing the pouch and setting it down on the bed. He opens it up and peers inside, finding three sandwiches and an assortment of snacks. There’s also slip of paper taped to a bag of chips, which contains a drawing of all the Paladins (and James).

“That’s nice of them,” Krolia says, looking over his shoulder. She grabs one of the sandwiches and takes a bite, releasing an appreciative hum. “We’ll probably go with Mauve Finery,” she says as she’s walking out of the room. “I noticed you were glancing at that color while you were pretending not to care.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keith insists, taking the pouch with him as he follows her. “Really, I don’t.”

“That’s not going to work on me,” Krolia retorts, eyes shining with mirth. “I know you only act this way to mess with the other Blades and I have to say, it’s pretty entertaining.” She reaches out to ruffle his hair again, sounding so fond when she says, “I guess there are some things you can only learn from your mother.”

Keith hides his smile by biting into his sandwich.

They sit down at their dining room table, Kosmo included, and eat the rest of their food in silence. Sunlight streams in through the open windows (they still need to buy curtains), and a cool breeze brushes over his bare arms. Keith’s hit with a strong wave of peace, happy to be spending time with his family.

“Ah,” Krolia says, drawing his attention to her. She gazes at him with worry. “You’re a hybrid,” she says. “And that means we don’t know if you’re going through a human or Galran gestation period.”

Fear strikes Keith’s heart. “What does that mean for the baby?” he asks, covering his small bump with a hand. “Will they be okay?”

“Of course,” Krolia quickly assures. “I’m just worried about how it’ll affect on you. Our doctors will have to monitor your pregnancy more closely.” She pauses, and sounds hesitant when she continues, “But we’ll need one for the human side of things as well.”

Keith’s first instinct is to deny it. If he were to go to a doctor at the Garrison or on the Atlas, the chances of Shiro finding out about the pregnancy are high. He considers the situation and squashes that urge down. His child is more important than that.

“Alright,” he says after a while. “I’ll go to our doctors first, and then take whatever information we find to a human doctor.” He glances at his mother and asks curiously, “How long does a Galran pregnancy last?”

“Five months,” she says, and adds wryly, “Your father was certainly surprised when my water broke. He wasn’t expecting it to happen so early—his words—and practically wore a hole into the floor with his pacing.” Her smile is gentle and sad. “He actually burst into tears when he saw you.”

“Really?” Keith asks in surprise, unable to picture his pop acting in such a way. “Why?”

“He was so worried about you!” Krolia laughs. “After he was done crying, he explained how different human pregnancies were and how he was relieved that nothing was wrong with you for being born so early. That’s when _I_ had to explain Galran pregnancies, all while you were sleeping in his arms without a care in the world.”

Now it’s Keith’s turn to laugh.

“You probably won’t have the same gestation period,” she says next. “But I believe your Galra side will have some influence over this pregnancy, so it might not last the whole nine months.” She leans over and lightly taps his stomach. “You also don’t have to worry about the post-baby weight. It was easy for me to get back into fighting shape after you were born.”

“Is that a Galra thing?” Keith asks.

“It’s a Galra thing,” Krolia confirms. “We’re fighters, remember? We should be ready to fight our enemies or defend our kits. Galra adapted after years and years of fighting, which is also why we have shorter pregnancies.”

“Makes sense,” he says, and then hums thoughtfully. “Hey, do you think that’s why I have more Galra features now?”

Krolia tilts her head.

“Maybe my body is preparing me for what’s to come,” Keith explains. “I mean, the Galra changed because of what was going on around them. Maybe that’s what’s happening to me, like a defense mechanism.”

“That’s an interesting theory,” Krolia says slowly. “It’s highly possible, but we can’t be certain until you take some tests.” She leans over and ruffles his hair, _again_ (he’ll never get tired of it). “We can worry about it later. For now, let’s finish our lunch.”

“Speaking of which, are the meat cravings normal? It’s all I want to eat these days, and it’s getting to the point where I’m sad that vegetables make me sick. I’m starting to miss those stupid salads from the cafeteria.”

“Yes. I can’t tell you how many times I brought home some fresh coyote for your father to cook up.”

“That actually sounds good….”

“I highly recommend it.”

 

☆ ☆

 

“You should open my present first!” Lance says, pushing a large, wrapped box closer to Keith. He’s grinning brightly, excited enough to make Keith wary. “You’ll like it a lot! Honestly, it’s probably the best one here.”

“We’ll see,” Keith says plainly, taking his sweet time unwrapping the gift.

He's having a surprisingly good time at his baby shower. Keith thought he'd feel overwhelmed or out of place, because parties aren’t his thing, but so far it's been calmer than he expected. All they’ve done is pass around food and play baby-related games (the one where they had to identify the different chocolates in diapers made him laugh).

Now, it’s time for Keith to open the gifts everyone brought.

Keith finally pulls the lid off the top, privately amused over Lance’s impatient huffing, and pulls out two blankets. One is large enough to wrap around him twice, dark purple and smooth to the touch. The other looks as if it’d barely fit over his shoulders, lavender in color with intricate flowers stitched into the soft material.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, hugging the blankets close to his chest. “These are perfect.”

“We have another present for you, but we'll have to bring it by another day.” Lance grins. “A cute little bassinet for the Voltron baby, so you can keep them right by your bed for a while.”

Even though he already has a crib and doesn’t know the difference between the two, Keith nods and smiles in gratitude. He sets the blankets aside and grabs the next box, opening it up and pulling out what looks like a walkie talkie and a small tablet.

“That’s from us Holts!” Pidge says with a grin. “It’s a baby monitor! Upgraded by yours truly!” She bows, pauses, and adds, “And Matt, of course.” She sits back up, gesturing to the box. “We’re not done tinkering with the camera yet, but I’ll definitely give it to you before the baby’s born.”

Keith gets through the rest of the presents with ease.

From Hunk and his family, he gets wipes, diapers, and bottles. Shay (who came with Hunk) gifts him with a night light in the shape of a sphere, which contains a Balmeran crystal and gives off a warm, blue glow. Allura and Coran give him an Altean outfit for the baby, and Romelle made an Altean toy from memory. Nearly all of the Blades got clothes for both the child and Keith (some being matching outfits), and Kolivan passes over a toy weapon that looks too real to be fake (Keith even checked to be sure that it was).

His favorite gifts are the plush wolf (that looks like Kosmo) from James and the baby sling for Keith (and the space wolf) from his mother. The latter came with a story of Krolia using something similar when she would walk through the desert with his pop. She even brought out an old, worn picture of her wearing it, his little head poking out the top.

After he sets all the presents aside to put away later, dessert is passed out. It’s a lemon sponge cake with lavender colored buttercream frosting, which Keith requested because he's been on a bit of a lemon kick ever since he had James’ pie.

Another game is planned for the night and as his friends are setting up for it, Keith looks around the room and has the strange sense that something’s missing. He methodically counts heads but feels no relief when he sees that everyone is here. Keith’s rubbing at his suddenly aching chest, feeling frustrated, when he’s struck with the answer to his discomfort.

Shiro isn’t here.

It’s not like he was expecting him to be there. Shiro still doesn't know that Keith’s the one who’s pregnant. If someone had invited him to the baby shower, then the truth would be laid out for Shiro to see once he arrived. Keith knows this is the reason why he's not with them, and yet he can't suppress his sadness over the thought.

Truthfully, it’s a pretty shitty reason. He feels terrible about it, too, and it only makes him feel worse—guilt making his stomach clench up.

Keith doesn’t think it’s fair that he gets to sit here, having fun, while Shiro remains none the wiser. He _wishes_ Shiro was beside him, celebrating their child with all their friends, and wishes he wasn’t a _coward_ about the whole situation.

Even if Keith did tell Shiro, would he be forgiven? Would Shiro understand why he did what he did, or would he be angry with him? Maybe he'll abandon Keith, then, and their friendship will fall to ruin.

(As if things weren’t already ruined after they first fucked.)

James suddenly leans over and murmurs, “You okay?”

No, he isn't, but Keith isn't going to admit that freely. He plasters on a smile and pats his thigh. “I'm fine,” he tells him. “I just need some fresh air.” Then, he says to the rest of the group, “You guys can start without me. I'll be back in a bit.”

Everyone echoes an agreement, and he pointedly ignores the concerned looks from some of his friends as he makes his way through the room. Keith steps outside, leaving the door open a crack, and sighs in relief. He walks over to the railing and leans against it, arms crossed as he stares out into the desert. The night air feels cool against his skin, gladly welcomed after sitting in a warm, crowded room for hours.

Even with the sounds of his loved ones drifting out of the apartment, their joyous laughter and their playful shouts, Keith’s hit with an intense wave of loneliness.

It’s strong enough to send him lurching forward, breathing raggedly. He stumbles, and then drops down into one of the chairs that are pushed up against the outside wall. Keith presses both hands against his burning eyes, chest going tight as the emotion consumes him.

He shouldn’t be feeling this way, not when he has so many people that care about him in one room.

 _And yet…_ Keith thinks, lifting his head to gaze up at the stars.

He idly wonders if Shiro happens to be glancing out of the Atlas, if he’s looking up at the same, distant stars. Does he have Keith on his mind? Is he missing Keith as much as Keith’s missing Shiro? Or is _that,_ just like his love for the man, merely a one-sided feeling as well?

Movement in his peripheral catches his attention, and Keith looks over when someone sits down in the empty chair beside him. He manages a weak smile when he sees the look of worry on Krolia’s face.

“Hi, Mom,” he murmurs.

Krolia studies him quietly, and then cocks her head to the side when she asks, “Not having any fun?”

“No, I am!” Keith quickly assures. He sighs and slumps in place. “I just wanted some time to myself, I guess.”

A hand rubs his back, the motion both soothing and grounding. “It seems like something’s troubling you,” Krolia says. “I don’t know what it is, but I’m willing to listen. I could even offer some insight if you’d like.”

It’s a very tempting offer, one that Keith takes her up on after a while.

“I was thinking about how Shiro's not here,” Keith admits, staring down at his hands. Guilt churns in his stomach. “He doesn't even know that he's missing his own child's baby shower,” he says, nails digging into his palms. “He doesn't even know that he's going to be a father!” Keith leans back against the chair and laughs humorlessly. “Then I started thinking about how much I want him to be here, even though it's my fault that he's not.”

“You miss him,” Krolia remarks quietly.

“Yeah,” Keith sighs. “I don’t know how to deal with it.” He snorts. “Honestly, I’ve only ever felt this way with Shiro. Isn’t that weird? All those times he was gone….”

“Keith,” she says, sounding serious. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and I need you to answer them honestly as you can.”

“Uh, sure?”

“Does your chest ache when you think of him?” she asks. “Do you long to be by his side? Is it almost painful when you’re not? Do you feel incomplete without him?”

“That's… very specific,” Keith says with a frown. “How'd you know about that?”

Krolia’s smile is sad. “It's how I felt after I had to leave your father,” she says softly, reaching up to rest a hand on her chest. “It's how I feel _now,_ except it's more like a dull ache these days.”

“What does it mean?” Keith asks. “Is it something bad?”

“Not quite,” she says. “All it means is that you’ve imprinted on Shiro, and you crave his presence because your instincts consider him your mate; the perfect partner, the one that you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

“W-What?” Keith squeaks out, and then covers his mouth. His face is burning with embarrassment. “I did that?” he asks after removing his hand, voice low and panicked. “Does he know about this? Why did this happen if we’re not even together?”

“I doubt he knows, but I can’t be certain. It’s possible that he feels a pull towards you, one that he can’t explain, and he might miss you more than usual.”

“Is there a way to get rid of this imprint?” he asks. “To stop myself from feeling this way?” He chews on his lip, only stopping when the taste of copper touches his tongue.

“It takes time for these feelings to fade,” Krolia says. “Especially when you love someone with all your heart. Taking on a new partner does speed up the process, but it can be harder once you and the one you imprinted on have already mated.” Her lips twist into a sad smile. “Even when they're gone, your heart will still long for them.”

“Dad…” Keith says quietly. He leans against her and laces one of their hands together, giving it a squeeze. “Did you ever try to move on while you were away?”

“No,” she replies simply. “I couldn’t.”

“He never dated,” he confesses, scruffing his heel along the floor. “I think he couldn’t move on from you either, or maybe he didn’t want to.” He lets out a breath. “Pop never really talked about you, but whenever he did say something… I could tell that he still loved you.”

“And I loved him,” Krolia says, and then corrects herself, “Still love him.”

“Do you think you could move on?”

“Even now, knowing that he’s gone, I doubt I could. He was my first love, Keith. That’s not something I can get over.” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see the shine to her eyes. “He was my everything, my forever, and my heart still believes that to be true.”

She falls silent after that, and Keith doesn’t ask anything more. Instead, he loses himself in his thoughts.

After learning about all of this, Keith wonders if he’ll ever be able to get over Shiro. Does his own heart believe that Shiro is his forever? Is that why he still longs for the man even though he’ll never have him the way he wants? Will he be stuck with his unrequited feelings for the rest of his life, unable to move on no matter how hard he tries?

 _No,_ Keith thinks when James comes to mind. _I have to try._ _I_ want _to try._

That’s all he can do.

Maybe there will come a day where he can look at Shiro and only see his best friend—nothing more, nothing less. His heart won’t beat fast when he sees Shiro’s smile, the urge to make their hugs last longer will die down, and the memories of their moments in bed will fade into the past.

Keith and Shiro don’t have to be together to raise their child. He can already envision Shiro interacting with them, doing his best to be a good father and role model. A friend and a father, that’s all he’ll be.

He can accept that.

 _I’ve got James now,_ Keith tells himself with a smile. _And Shiro has Adam. We’re both happy with our respective partners, and that has to be enough. It’ll take some time to get over Shiro, but I know I’ll get there eventually._

Even as he thinks this, there’s still a lingering ache in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (everything is blue
> 
> his jorts, his jants, his jeiths)
> 
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/viribirb) :)!


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